The Peter Paradox
by ID21
Summary: Can you miss someone you have never met? Olivia's life without Peter, solving Fringe cases across realities and saving the universe. It's all in a days' work for Olivia Dunham. S4 musings, WIP.
1. The Philosphy of Time Travel

A/N: My first work of fanfiction, this plot was mulling around in my head after watching Season 3 (which I have just finished watching) and since I don't have fancy satellite TV, I thought writing this might keep me entertained while I wait. Hope you think this is worth reading! I know the first few chapters may be a bit short, but I am hoping to expand into longer chapters as I find my writers flow! (I do have an 8 page plan of where I would like to take this story, so encouragement may be needed to get me to the end!)

Disclaimer: Fringe and its characters are not mine, I am only borrowing. And all rights reserved to the Donnie Darko Soundtrack, whose song titles fitted eerily well in giving name to some of the chapters.

"The Philosophy of Time Travel."

_The grandfather paradox is a thought experiment highlighting the problems with travelling back in time. __Imagine you travel back in time and kill your own grandfather before he meets your grandmother. This of course wipes one of your parents from existence and by default, you. _

_So how could you have gone back in time to do such a deed, if you never existed in the first place?_

_Of course you would be stupid (or suicidal) to do such a thing, unless it was a third party who either through action or inaction, was fundamental to erasing you from existence. _

_However there are a number of theories to avoid such a paradox, such as the idea that the past is unchangeable, that therefore your grandfather must have survived after all, or that in going back in time the traveller created a new alternative time line. _

_A time line in which; when you were a boy you were kidnapped by a man who looked like your Father, and by accident, you happened to plunge into an ice covered lake. And through inaction, you drowned while a man in a dark suit and bowler hat stood idle, and watched the events unfold._


	2. Manipulated Living

Chapter 2: "Manipulated living."

**4.37am**

I have been woken by nightmares for three nights in a row now. The red neon numbers of my alarm clock tell me I have only managed to sleep for two hours.

Knowing that getting back to sleep is impossible, I roll out of bed and head for the bathroom. The harshness of the bathroom light makes me squint as it flickers on. I run the cold water tap and splash my face. Taking hold of either side of the sink I gaze wearily at my reflection in the mirror.

I look tired.

Pale.

There are dark circles under my eyes.

Staring into the mirror I begin to see the image as another me, looking through the glass from another place. Quirking my head to the side, I reach my hand out, she responds and mimics my actions, but when my hand touches the cold glass of the mirror, her hand stretches right through and grabs me by the wrist. I'm frozen, I can't move. I hold my breath as she leans towards the glass, and even though I want to pull away, I stare mesmerised; her pleading wild eyes bore into me through the glass, as a desperate whisper escapes her lips.

"This is wrong."

**5.30am**

I sit up in bed gasping, clutching at my nightshirt. My alarm clock is ringing on the bedside table and I lean over to turn it off.

I must have drifted off again. I sit with my knees drawn up, resting my elbows on them as I rake my hands through my hair.

This is one of the few mornings that I have made it through the night to hear my alarm, though last night's sleep was anything but restful.

I roll out of bed and make my way to the bathroom, I avoid looking in the mirror on the medicine cabinet above the sink, some part of me realises this is irrational – but if you worked with a double of yourself, a more confident, self assured... happier seemingly, was able to live your life better than you could do yourself.

_Don't go there Olivia_.

To say I have some issues with my occasional new work partner would be an understatement, but until you meet your doppelganger from an alternative universe; one that was able to imposter as you for two months without your work colleagues or family noticing, you'll have to reserve judgment.

Now, occasionally, we work together when our cases cross over. We try and hold together an uneasy truce that was created between our two universes. The problems our universes suffer are the same, though undoubtedly hers has suffered more than mine. The very fabric of space is falling apart, and that is not going to be solved by trying to destroy each other.

I change into old jogging pants and sweater and decide that my run this morning might be the solution to blowing the cobwebs off my mind. It's colder than usual outside and my breath hitches as the cool air catches me. I take my usual thirty minute route, and pass by the same collection of dog walkers and early risers I pass every morning.

The run clears my head enough, but once I'm home and standing under the hot shower my mind drifts to the dreams I have been having over the last few nights. Am I trying to tell myself the truce is wrong? That they are working to a hidden agenda, one that I should be able to see through? These are the solutions that come easiest to me, the trust issues, but somewhere deep inside I get the feeling that there are even bigger problems than our universes imploding.

But what could be bigger than that?

Later I can't shake this strange feeling even when I am grabbing my service weapon and car keys and heading out the door. I feel like I've forgotten something and it claws at the back of my head as I unlock my SUV.

But ever since I was very young, I have had an amazing memory.

I never forget anything.

Or anyone.


	3. Static

AN: First of all, special thanks to Star8fans for my first ever review!

Trying to introduce the changes Peter's absence has made without treading over worn ground too much. Hopefully I'm hitting the pace of the story right.

Enjoy! 

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><p>For four years we have been using Walters' old lab in the basement of Harvard University for investigating Fringe cases.<p>

Given Walters precarious mental state it has been helpful to give him a familiar place to work. Walter has been improving slowly since we discharged him from mental institution. He still has a habit of slipping into a withdrawn, morose state periodically; this can make him impossible to work with for days at a time.

The halls down here still smell of dusty old text books and photocopier. The walls still seem to hold the aura of the ambition and optimism of the bright minds that have worked and studied here. There is also an odd buzzing sound which gets louder as I approach the door to the lab.

I push the door open with my foot as I try to juggle 3 coffee cups in a cardboard carrier and a bag of muffins. As I enter the lab, I can now distinguish the snowy static noise of an unturned TV or radio.

"Morning – "I call out.

Agent Astrid Farnsworths' pops her head up from behind her Government Issue laptop. "Morning, Olivia." Astrid clears a space on one of the less chaotic desks in the lab and I put the cups down. "Walter is through the back listening to static on the radio. I think I prefer the Chopin. He's been listening to it since I came in, and I've only just got him to turn it down."

I check my watch, it's only 8.30am. I think this can be described as a typical day in the office with Walter Bishop. I take into account the pleading look from Astrid and grab two coffees from the holder, while Astrid stirs sugar into hers.

I pat her on the arm as I go past, "I'll bribe him with food if I have to."

I open the door to the back office and the noise assaults me like a kick in the chest.

"WALTER!" No response. He is sitting at the desk with his back to the door. I get closer and I can see he is jotting down numbers in a notepad. "WALTER!" I tap him on the shoulder and he whirls round with a start. For a brief moment I fear Astrid may be cleaning coffee off the ceiling for weeks, but reflexively I manage to step back.

"OLIVIA!" recognition fills his face, "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that!"

Walter takes the offered coffee from my hand and turns off the radio. The relief is instant, but my ears are still ringing.

"Did you know that static is the background noise from the big bang?" he tells me in an excited voice a three year old might use. "I'm trying to hear hidden messages."

"Hidden messages from whom?"

"Exactly!" he points his finger with a flourish.

"Ok, well, Broyles is coming down; he needs to speak with us."

He leans towards me, lowering his voice to a consipiratory tone "Is it about the microwave incident?" He suddenly looks very guilty.

"Um no, I think it might be about a new case." Not missing a beat I continue "What microwave incident?"

"Oh, nothing. Did you bring breakfast?" He escapes out the door before I can ask him anything else, but I make a mental note to ask Astrid later.

Following Walter, I see he is already digging into the bag of muffins, and I take a seat at the end of the desk.

"Are you OK Olivia, you look tired?" Astrid appears at my side and Walter hands her a muffin.

"I'm fine, just not been sleeping very well."

"Are you sick?" Walter is concerned and I briefly wonder how much strain is showing in my features today.

"I don't think so." Before I finish Walter has his hand at my wrist checking my pulse.

"Maybe you're working too hard. It's been a rough few months', maybe you should take some time off?" Astrid suggests helpfully.

I could do with a break.

"Or maybe Walternate did something else to you!" Walter satisfied with my pulse flicks a pen light in my eyes.

I flinch from the light and the comment, "I'm fine, just tired."

Walternate.

Walters double from the alternate reality. Unlike Walter, he is in complete control of his mental faculties; he is also quite ruthless and has been on a quest of revenge since Walter abducted his Peter.

He also instigated my kidnapping six months ago. Spies on this side confirmed that I held the ability to cross safely between the two universes. I was a highly valued target, adding in my connection to Walter, and the discovery of the existence of a machine that could destroy one of our universes. Walternate made sure all the parts of the machine fell into his hands.

What I didn't know then, was that no rescue would be coming for me, as their Olivia took my place and infiltrated our team.

I was kept in a cell in a medical facility, while Walternate tried to activate my innate abilities using a purpose built sensory deprivation tank. He also tried to erase my memory, and replace it with those of their Olivia. It worked for a time, and I actually believed I belonged there, to the extent I worked for their Fringe division for well over a month.

During that time, I voluntarily submitted myself to Walternates' experiments. What he didn't know that during these flashes of the other side, I started to get my memory back. Whatever he did to me during those months, made it easier for me to access the part of my mind that lets me cross over.

I attempted to escape back home, only to be captured before I could fully cross. Walternate had all the answers he needed from me by now, and I was more use to him dead than alive.

At the eleventh hour I was saved by their Broyles, he paid the ultimate price for his betrayal, but he did get me to the tank in Walternates old lab at Harvard University.

I finally made it home.

Since I have been back, I have found it much easier to access my abilities. I am able to distinguish objects from there, with a glance. I turned the experiments Walternate did on me to our advantage. The shapeshifter spies glow with a glimmer I can see from two blocks away and it allowed me to identify their infiltration in our government and at Massive Dynamic.

The door to the lab swings open, breaking me out of my reverie.

"We've got a new case." Broyles has a couple of manila folders in his hand which he passes my way.

I open the folder and find a series of crime scene photo's on the top.

I spread them out in front of me as Astrid looks over my shoulder; it immediately hits me how ordinary these pictures look.

If murder ever looks ordinary.

Two bodies, male and a female, sprawled on the floor. Blood is pooling underneath them. I find myself looking for the missing body parts, silver blood or the teeth marks of a monster. But this looks very... human.

Having a monster to blame sometimes makes the case easier to deal with.

"Eric Simpson and his wife found dead last night by a neighbour who heard shouts. They were both stabbed multiple times." Supplies Broyles.

"Ok, anything unusual?" I'm struggling at the moment to see how this could be a Fringe case.

Broyles slides another file over. "Janice Oakfield, lived alone, work colleague discovered the body after Janice failed to turn up to work. Same M.O."

"When was this?" I'm beginning to wonder if we have a serial killer on our hands. But something doesn't add up yet.

"Last week. But it didn't flag up inter agency alerts until Mr Simpson was discovered." Broyles leans forward onto the desk, interlinking his fingers, before continuing "It matches a Fringe case from over there."

Over there.

A seemingly innocuous way of describing it, we could be discussing a deli store from across the street.

And I know what's coming next.

"I've arranged for you to meet with the lead investigator from their case to go over the details." Broyles has a no nonsense tone and I know better than to disagree. "It's scheduled for 15:00 hours. I trust you will be diplomatic, in the interest of collaboration."

I give him a quick nod, "Of course." I'll need to go over them in detail before the meeting.

"Keep in touch." And with that he's swooping out the door in a way that only Broyles can.

"Interest of Collaboration! That trickster! I still think you should call her a deceiving, evil..."

"WALTER!" Astrid cuts in before Walter can finish.

"Sorry." A little sheepish, before adding quietly under his breath, "But you should." He makes his way back into the back office; hopefully he won't be continuing the experiment with the radio again.

Walter probably comes in second to me over the size of the grudge held towards Fauxlivia's deception.

"Astrid could you go over the murder scenes again, see if they missed anything. Do a trace to see if there is any connection between the victims." It doesn't leave me much time to get to Liberty Island and go over the files but with Astrid doing some background checks while I'm driving it should save some time.

Astrid nods and sits down at her laptop, "Don't let her get to you."

"Thanks." I grab my coat and head for the door.

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading, stay tuned!<p> 


	4. The Other Side

AN: Samuri7269 thanks for reading; I'm glad you are enjoying my ramblings!

Here it goes...

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><p>I have a couple of hours to sit in the spare office here and go over the case files before the meeting.<p>

I pour over the crime scene photos and police notes, and somewhere during that manage to drink two mugs of coffee.

As was my first impressions, nothing screams out Fringe case. During both murder cases the investigating officer has declared the motive as burglary gone wrong. However nothing appears to have been taken from either of the scenes - I can see clearly that Mrs Simpson still has all her jewellery on.

The murder weapon was a kitchen knife, apparently from the victims own kitchen, and is left at the scene. There are no finger prints on the weapon, besides those belonging to the victims. Astrid phones later and confirms that the victims at both scenes are unconnected. Eric Simpson a happily married 35 year old chemistry teacher at a local elementary school, while Janice Oakfield is a single, 56 year old secretary at a lawyer's office. They lived at opposite sides of the city, and didn't move in the same social circles.

No leads, no witnesses, both cases unsolved.

I make my way through a series of security check points. Everything that passes through needs to be weighed exactly, the universe demands balance, and like some kind of cosmic accountant, it will take matter from one side to the other in approximately 35 hours if matter of equal mass is not exchanged. There is a custom built meeting room in the centre. It makes my head hurt if I spend too long trying to figure out how these buildings have joined together, but essentially it acts as a bridge between the two universes. The doomsday machine sits off to the side, a towering, menacing presence in the room.

Far from destroying us however, it did this.

We have some of the best minds working on it, and no one has ever found out how it was activated in the first place, or where it draws it energy from... or indeed how to turn it off if this arrangement is ever to end.

The meeting room is soundproofed, but internally the room is monitored by security cameras.

My liaison is already seated at the end of the table.

"Oof, you look rough." Fauxlivia smirks.

And so it starts.

We seem to be able to fall into this rhythm of jibes quite easily. Occasionally the odd verbal hand grenade is thrown back and forth, but that is usually reserved for when we are not being watched so closely. I fix her with a stare; I'm not particularly in the mood for a verbal sparring match today. She holds her hands up, palms towards me, in a non threatening gesture that says she'll play nice.

I slide the files up the table, "What can you tell me about the case?" Straight to business today and Fauxlivia picks up that I want this over quickly.

"Well," She clears her throat, "Not much about _your _case, so much as one of _our_ unsolved cases." Quickly, she flicks through the file in front of her. "Two years ago, sixteen murders in total. Including Eric Simpson, his wife and Janice Oakfield; who were killed in their homes."

Sixteen.

"Did you find a connection between the victims?"

"They all worked for Hans-Berger Industries, a privately funded science research and development company." This is already a problem, as our victims are not working for this company on our side. I'm not sure the company even exists on our side, but I make a note to check it out when the meeting is over. "They had an industrial accident at their Boston Lab." Fauxlivia continues. "An explosion took out half the building. As a precaution, due to the instability of the area, our Secretary of Defence gave a direct order to Amber the entire site. A week after the explosion, the murders started." Fauxlivia slides down a box full of case notes. "All we know about the research lab and what they were working on is in there and to be honest it's not much. They were quick to start covering their accounts and the details of their research. If there are answers, it's locked in the Amber."

"What about the perp? Did you I.D him?"

"Well that's where it gets interesting." Fauxlivia gestures to the TV monitor on the far wall. "This is the only time we ever picked the guy up on camera." She hits a button on the remote and the video begins to play. It looks like security footage from inside a multi-storey parking garage. There is a man standing waiting on the elevator at the far side of the image."Keep watching the doors."The doors open but the elevator appears to be empty, the man in front steps forward to enter but is knocked backwards onto the ground by some unseen force. I move closer to the screen and Fauxlivia replays the sequence again. "We confirmed it was a scientist who worked at the company. His name is Robert Fabbri. He's the one coming out the elevator acting like a linebacker."

"What are you saying?" It's not the man with his back to the camera, "That Robert Fabbri is invisible?"

Fauxlivia turns to face me and quirks her eyebrow "Told you it gets' interesting."

"We're going to have to look Mr Fabbri up on our side, see if he has the same abilities." Something is still bothering me about all this though. "How did you figure out it was him?"

"In short, he was the only employee who wasn't murdered or located. We think he escaped from the scene of the lab explosion. Half of the main lab building is also invisible." Fauxlivia reveals. "What our investigation turned up however, was the invisibility is permanent, I don't know what that would do to your mental state but this guy was definitely unstable. Anyone connected with the company was a target and he started from the top down." Fauxlivia turns the monitor off.

"After the initial sixteen murders, he never struck again?"

"The rest of the employees were put into witness protection, but no, we never caught him."

I open the first case file in the box and the first page is a list of all the victims. My breath catches in my throat when I see the name at the top of the list.

Nina Sharp.

CEO of Hans-Berger Industries.

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><p>AN: Thanks for reading!<p> 


	5. Coincidence?

AN: Samuri7269: Thank you for your kind words! It's always really encouraging to know people are reading.

I found this chapter a bit of a challenge for some reason (it kicked my butt all week.) It turned out to be a lot longer than I expected as well... so here it goes.

Enjoy!

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><p>"An invisible man!" Walter exclaims, "How exciting, it's like we are living in an H.G Wells novel!" He is going through the box of case notes like a child in a sweet shop. "I wonder how they did it. Bell and I tried but nothing survived the transformation. We turned most things into the consistency of rice pudding!" He lets out a laugh as he relives the fond memory, only Walter could find that amusing and I'm hoping nothing living was reduced to pudding. "Of course there is always more than one way to do it!" He continues. "It could be some kind of bio-chemical interaction, or something based in physics, but to find a way to bend light around an object to render it invisible is a fascinating experiment!"<p>

"Well we don't know if our Mr Fabbri is invisible. The research company doesn't exist here. As far as we know he has never been involved in any lab accidents."

Our Robert Fabbri has a rather colourful past, and that's putting it mildly. A conviction for breaking and entering plus an assault charge. Then starting two years ago several government agencies tried to track him down for hacking into areas of national security.

"I've got his last known address." Astrid comes off the phone. She has a print out of his drivers' license and a separate copy of his mug shot picture.

"I guess we'll start there then."

"Has Nina Sharp been back in contact yet?"

"Not yet, but I spoke with Massive Dynamics head of security, they are going to step it up until we find him." She is bound to be one of the biggest targets. "I'm hoping that being out of the country puts her at less risk for the moment."

"What doesn't make sense is his motive. He has never met these people before." Astrid verbalises something that has been bothering me as well.

Walter mulls over the question, "Maybe, somehow, the memories of their Mr Fabbri have transfered to ours, a transfer of emotions. Now he is acting out, repeating the events here."

That's one theory.

"Ok Walter, we'll be gone for a while; if you need us the phone numbers are taped to the fridge door." Astrid gets her coat on and prepares to come with me.

"I remembered." Confirms Walter, as he pulls another set of pictures out the box. He is already distracted by the new information and is lost in his own world. I think going through the box will keep him out of trouble, at least for a few hours.

"Let's go." I say heading out.

Once we are in the car driving to the address I feel the need to work through something else that crossed my mind during the meeting with Fauxlivia, "Do you think it's a coincidence that their Nina Sharp was the head of that company over there?"

"What do you mean?" I've got Astrids' attention.

Trying to rationalise my thoughts I begin "When I was over there, I tried to find Massive Dynamics headquarters. It doesn't exist there, much like Hans-Berger Industries doesn't exist here." I let the idea settle with Astrid before I continue, "I'm wondering if this is their "Massive Dynamic" and given the connection between our Walter and Nina here – whether Walternate has something to do with that company." I smile, "Or do you think I'm being too suspicious?"

"I think, I don't believe in coincidences." Astrid and I seem to be on the same page. "All the accounts of that company vanished overnight, not even Fauxlivia could find out who sat on the board or funded the company."

"Or she's lying and she deliberately missed it out of the files she gave to us." I'm quick to point out.

"I don't think we can let our guard down anyway." Astrid says, but what she means is "Now you do sound too suspicious."

"We're here." It's an old apartment complex, "What number is it?"

"4B" Astrid tells me as we get out the car.

As we approach the door I get my badge out, without thinking I have also let my hand drift to my sidearm. I knock on the door as Astrid stands slightly behind me. We can hear a woman's voice drifting through the door as she yells at someone to turn the TV down. The door jerks open as far as the security chain allows and I can see the woman the voice belongs to, she appears to be in her mid thirties, with dark hair and sunken eyes. "What do you want." The woman asks abruptly.

"My name is Agent Dunham, this is Agent Farnsworth, we're from the FBI." I hold my badge up so she can see it. "We're looking to speak with Robert Fabbri."

"He's not here." And with that she begins to shut the door. I jam my toe forward stopping her from closing the door and it bounces back to the limit of the security chain.

"We need to ask you a few questions, Miss- "My foot is still firmly placed in the open doorway.

"Miss Duncan," she fills in, "And you folks have already been here and asked questions about Bobby. I threw him out six months ago. Brought too much trouble to this door, all you Federal types, told him to get out and take that computer with him."

"Could we come in?" I press.

She lets out a sigh, and realising I'm not giving her much of an option she takes the chain off the door. The door swings open and she steps aside to let us in.

"Thank you. I'm sorry to disturb you, we won't be long."

Moving into the living room I see there is a small boy sitting on the floor watching the TV. He looks to be about six years old.

"Go to your room." His mother commands and the boy dutifully jumps up and makes his way out of the room. When he is out of ear shot Miss Duncan explains, "Bobby is his father. He never bothered about him. That's wrong you know, he was so caught up with that computer stuff."

She gestures for us to take a seat.

"Do you have any idea where he could have gone?"

"He's got some other computer nerds he hangs out with, but I think he moves around a lot." She pauses before asking "He got himself into more trouble?"

"We're not sure, "deciding to play this differently I continue "he might be in danger. Do you know the names or addresses of his friends he might be staying with?"

She seems to be weighing up a decision on whether or not to tell us anymore, "You're not making that up? Bout him being in danger? I know he was into a lot of stuff he wasn't supposed to be involved in."

"No, and being completely honest, he might be able to help us save some other people too."

Chewing the inside of her lip, she casts her eyes to the door her son walked through. "He's got this friend, works at some old store. He was always asking me to give him a ride down there. Maybe he would know where to find him."

"Do you know the address?"

"Yeah it's down in The Bronx" She tells us the address and Astrid writes it down in her notebook.

"Thank you Miss Duncan, if he does show up, could you give us a call?" I hand over one of my cards as we stand to leave.

"Can't promise anything, but you never know." She must have frustrated the last lot of Feds to no end. I don't know if she is giving us the run around or not, but the address she has given us is worth checking out.

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><p>We pull up in the car across the street from the store. It definitely stands out as a bit of a niche store, I can't think they would be getting that many customers for old typewriters.<p>

"Wait," Astrid says, just as I'm about to open the car door. She's looking at something further up the street.

"What is it?" I try to see what it is that has her attention.

"When you got kidnapped, Fauxlivia used to bring pastries for Walter some days from this bakery." She says pointing it out.

"Are you sure?" Checking out the street again, "It's quite a bit out of her way."

"I'm sure." Astrid confirms.

I turn back to look at her, "Good thing we don't believe in coincidences then."

The bell above the door jingles as we enter the store, the place smells like old paper and ink. A man stands up from behind the counter and I can see that he's leaning quite heavily on a walking stick. His eyes flash when he sees my face, he recognises me, but instantly he tries to cover it up.

Fauxlivia has been in here.

"Can I help you?" He's really twitchy. I hope Astrid is picking up on the vibes this guy is giving off.

"Agent Dunham, FBI, I'm wondering if you can help us with our investigation." His eyes dart nervously to the door at the side of the room. "I'm looking for someone," I put the print out of his picture down on the counter. "Robert Fabbri. You know him?"

His eyes flick briefly to the picture, but he doesn't really look at it. "No." he replies quickly.

He's also a terrible liar.

"I didn't know this store was here, do you get a lot of business for old typewriters." Astrid questions, but the conversation does little to diffuse the undercurrent of tension that's building in the room.

He tries to sound relaxed when he replies but it sounds forced to my ears, "More than you would think, some people prefer them you know. They say they've got more soul than a computer."

I can't help but wonder what business Fauxlivia had in this store.

Digging deeper I ask, "Does anyone else work here that might know this man?"

His eyes shift back and forth to the side door again and I'm starting to get a really bad feeling about this. "No, it's just me. I told you I don't know who he is." He knows he's been rumbled, he knew the minute he slipped up when he recognised me.

I'm wondering if we have enough to get a warrant, but I doubt it at the moment. "Ok, thanks for your time." I retrieve the picture from the counter and turn to leave when the side door swings open. It's a young man, lean built, no older than mid twenties. He's wearing a check shirt and faded blue jeans.

He would seem like an ordinary guy.

Except for the glimmer he gives off.

Shape shifter.

There's a standoff for a few seconds where we all stare at each other, waiting to see who will make the first move. Decision made he makes a run for it, doubling back through the door. The gun is in my hand before I even consciously pull it out and I'm chasing him through the back of the store. "Stop! Freeze! FBI!" I shout to no avail, but he doesn't intend to get caught today.

Astrid must have pulled her gun on the store owner and I can hear her calling for backup.

The back of the store leads to a narrow corridor which is lined with boxes. He tries to knock them over into my path as he passes them. I'm scrambling over the debris and the tight space makes it difficult for me to get a shot. He barrels through the fire escape and the light from outside is blinding for a second. The back of the store opens up into an alley and he is already sprinting away, there's a good twenty feet between us already.

I can't let him go; he'll kill someone innocent, change his face and disappear. I bring my service weapon up and try to steady my breathing. I level my gun and on the next exhale I squeeze off a round, it's a clean shot and it finds its mark in the base of his skull. He's dead before he hits the ground.

I approach his body with my gun still trained on his back. He is sprawled face down in-between trash containers and old boxes. As I get nearer the silver mercury blood on the back of his head confirms that this is not a young man at all. It 's the monster who stole his life from him.

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><p>"What do we have?" Broyles is one of the first to arrive and already a team is securing the scene at the back of the store. Walter climbs out a second car; we sent for him when we made a discovery in one of the side rooms.<p>

"A dead shape shifter in the alley behind the store and a very uncooperative store owner." I report, "Plus something odd in one of the back rooms we need Walter to look at."

Astrid takes Broyles aside and updates him on what we know so far as I go over to greet Walter. "Olivia! How lovely to get out of the lab, can we go to the pastry shop before we go back?" I lead Walter into the store and through into the back room.

"Sure, but first could you have a look at this -" I open the door and reveal a nearly empty room. In the middle is a desk, a single chair, an old typewriter and a mirror. I point over at the desk, "There's something funky going on with the typewriter."

"Olivia!" Walter scolds, "You're going to have to be a bit more specific than "Funky"." He approaches the typewriter and sits down in the chair. To him and everyone else, there doesn't seem to be anything unusual with it.

"It's like it's shifting back and forth between realities. It exists in the same place on both sides, but it doesn't seem to belong specifically to either." I try and communicate what I am seeing, which even to me doesn't make that much sense.

Walter understands though, "It's a quantum entangled telegraphed. It must be how they can communicate between the universes. It's fascinating, I wonder how it works."

Broyles comes in behind me, but he heard the explanation "Is this how they could have been getting their orders?"

"Looks like it. It might also explain the connection between the cases. Robert Fabbri came here on a regular basis; it's possible he was being used by Walternate for his hacking abilities."

"We're transferring the store owner to the Federal building. Let's see what he knows."

* * *

><p>AN: I haven't forgotten about Nina Sharp... or Peter.<p>

If your still there click on review and say hi!


	6. The Artifact and the Living

AN: Hello Coffinwood, thanks for your review!

Rating up from now to be safe due to naughty words and upcoming chapters, but it's nothing that you wouldn't get in an episode "Fringe".

Enjoy...

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><p>I'm pacing back in forth in Broyles' office in the Federal Building, "Why didn't they tell us about the typewriter?"<p>

"I don't know." Broyles seems to appear quite calm, at least on the outside, sitting behind his desk watching me pace around.

"Are they working to some hidden agenda? Trying to get our trust but behind our backs its business as usual?" I knew we shouldn't have trusted them, well, tried to trust them in my case.

"Dunham-" He tries to interrupt my rant.

"And there are still shapeshifters operating over here -" I fire off, "are they not in breach of the treaty we signed?" My mind is racing now about what else they could be keeping from us.

"Dunham!" He raises his voice and it's enough to get me to stop pacing.

"Sorry sir." I try to calm down.

"I agree with you. You and I know that this treaty is tentative at best. I have a meeting scheduled tomorrow to raise these concerns, but you know we may not get the answers we need. That is why I want to find out everything Determann knows."

Alexander Determann, forty seven years old, lived in the USA since he was eight. He also happens to be the owner of a typewriter store housing an inter-dimensional communication device.

I take a seat in front of his desk, "I understand."

Broyles continues, "I'll pull some strings too – see if we can keep him in custody."

He is bound to have information, but it may take time before he starts talking. "How long can we hold him for?"

"If I have it my way – indefinitely – especially if he is not forthcoming with answers." Broyles isn't messing around.

"When you get a minute, take a look at this." He passes over a small stack of folders from his desk.

"What's this?" I ask flipping open the first file.

"We have traced everyone that worked for Hans-Berger Industries who is still alive on this side. It's narrowed it down, there are only twenty potential victims that live within a 200 mile radius, the rest are scattered across the country or living outside of the US. I have assigned agents to track down the twenty who are nearest, we can only hope he starts close to home and this doesn't escalate to involve other countries. You know how out of hand this could get if we don't catch him soon." Broyles stands and picks up the notes on Determann. "Let's see what he has to say."

Determann has been waiting in the interview room for the last hour, when we enter he doesn't even lift his head, his fingers idly fiddling with the handcuffs around his wrists.

"Hello Mr Determann, sorry to keep you waiting, I am Agent Broyles, this is Agent Dunham." He still refuses to acknowledge our presence, and as we sit down Broyles looks to me to continue the interview.

I push the picture of Robert Fabbri over so it sits directly in front of him on the table. "Why don't we start again, Mr Determann." He lifts his head now and stares at the same picture I showed him this afternoon at his store, but he makes no effort to start explaining.

"Do you realise how much trouble you are in?" Broyles picks up, "We can't help you unless you talk to us."

"They'll kill me if I talk." He replies under his breath.

Broyles and I decided before we came in that we were not going to tell Determann about the truce, at this stage I'm not even sure it still holds anyway.

"_If_ you talk? They'll probably kill you anyway – you've been in Federal Custody for six hours, do you think they would believe you if told them you didn't talk?" I rationalise.

That hits home, "Shit." He mumbles.

"If you assist us, we may be able to look at the charges against you." Broyles reveals.

His head snaps up," Charges? What charges?" his eyes switch between us.

Broyles explains, "You've aided an enemy of the United States who conspired to commit mass murder, not to mention countless other murder charges and acts of terrorism we can link to them."

"What! No! I didn't know what they were doing, I-" the words rush out.

"You didn't have any problems accepting their money though did you?" I say cutting him off. I open up the folder in front of me, "We checked out your finances, typewriters must be a really lucrative business to allow you to afford the rent on your store."

"Oh god." He brings his cuffed hands up to hold his head, hiding his face from view.

"Start from the beginning Mr Determann." Broyles urges.

"OK," He says leaning forward onto the table, "but I want protection."

"Deal." Broyles agrees. "Start talking."

"When did this arrangement at your store start?" I begin.

"About four years ago." He answers.

That would make sense that was when I first started working on the fringe cases. "Who approached you?"

"Some guy, saw him for a few months before he changed." He replies opening up.

"Changed?" Broyles asks.

He gestures to his head, "Yeah, changed faces, you know."

Shape shifters.

"This guy have a name?" I press.

"They weren't really big on answering lots of questions that was part of the deal. Don't ask, don't tell. Anyone comes in asking for a Selectric 251, tell them it was never made, they ask to see it anyway, it was a code to let them through the back."

"And they paid you for this service?" I ask leaning in.

"Sure, I ran some errands occasionally for them as well - pass on the weird tech, pick up a delivery, that kind of stuff. They told me if I helped for a few years they would even fix my leg." He tells us.

"Guess they didn't keep to their promise then." I say remembering how heavily he leaned on his walking stick back at the store.

"Yeah, go figure." He sighs, absently rubbing the thigh of his bad leg. "They were a piece of work; I wasn't going to mess with them. After so many years, how was I going to get out of an arrangement like that? Can't exactly go to the authorities about it. I was trapped working for them and they knew it."

"Ok, so when I came into your store this afternoon," He shifts awkwardly in his seat, "You recognised me didn't you?"

"Yeah, you caught me off guard." He confesses, "Took me a couple of seconds but I could tell the difference, you're not her."

"What did she want in your store?" I ask but I already know the answer.

"Same as all the others, to use the Selectric." He confirms my thoughts. "She hasn't been in for awhile; I didn't think she would be back. I guess that was why I got spooked when I saw you."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Again, I probably know the answer to that question as well.

"Maybe five months ago? I dunno. Things got real quiet from them after that. I used to get three or four visits every week, but since then it's been like one a month, if that."

We did manage to clear out most of their infiltration when I returned back from their side, looks like they weren't actively replacing their missing operatives. Then again they had all the pieces of the machine by then, makes sense not to waste assets that were going to be destroyed anyway. "So how does Robert Fabbri fit in with all this?" I ask, pointing to the picture still lying on the table.

"They recruited him from this side. Guess they ran out of their own men. He came in and used the Selectra the same though, but he was a bit more talkative, I knew he wasn't one of them."

Walternate lost his spies, but he still wanted to know what we were up to, so he hired humans from this side to do the dirty work."What did he tell you?"

"That they were giving him lots of money to hack into some government computer systems." He says, shifting in his seat again.

We're getting close to the answers we need, "Do you know where we can find him?"

"Not really, he never said where he lived." He pauses for a moment before continuing, "They gave him a phone though."

"Go on." Broyles knows we're nearly there.

With a sigh he continues, "The number is in an old typewriter manual, behind my desk at the store."

Broyles stands up, "Thank you for your co operation."

"Can I go now?" he asks hopefully.

"Not until we ask you some more questions, but that will have to wait." Broyles calls out the agent standing outside, "Escort Mr Determann back to the holding cells."

"Wait, come on! I told you all I know, I have rights!" he calls out as the agent leads him from the room. The request falls on deaf ears.

Broyles waits until he is clear from the room before speaking again. "I'll make the call; get them to search for that manual with the number."

I nod in agreement, it's the best lead we have so far.

* * *

><p>It's just gone ten thirty by the time I get home. The mobile phone number is a dead end at the moment. The techs are looking into it, but best they can tell us is the number is still active but the phone is switched off. I keep thinking that there must be more clues in the files Fauxlivia gave us, something that would lead us to Robert Fabbri or at least predict his next victim.<p>

I throw the notes down on the coffee table and sit heavily on the couch, resting my head in my hands. It's been a long couple of days, and I get the feeling that it's not even started, I make a promise to myself not to stay up too late looking at these files and it at least try get more than three hours sleep tonight. Just as I lean in to get the notes, I feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck and there is a noise from my bathroom. Too much talk of invisible killers and lack of sleep has made me paranoid, but knowing that I'm paranoid doesn't stop me taking my service weapon out its holster and walking quietly towards the source of the noise. I'm going to have to check the whole apartment now.

My heart is thumping in my chest when I open the bathroom door, gun pointed into the room, I turn on the light. My eyes sweep the room, but there is nothing to see, I cast a wary glance at the mirror above the sink. I bite the inside of my cheek and am instantly rewarded with a sharp pain, at least I'm not dreaming. Rationally I realise if I have to check then I am definitely starting to have some problems, but I push that thought to the back of my mind for now. The source of the noise is nothing more than a dripping tap, as I move in to turn it tighter my eyes catch site of my toothbrush holder.

On its own there's nothing suspicious about that, except that there are not one, but two toothbrushes in the holder tonight. My heart is hammering in my chest as I reach out to the foreign object, just as my hand touches the brush, the area flickers and snaps back to focus, it's gone. Everything is back to normal. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding; I don't know what's wrong with me.

I put my gun down on the table in the kitchen as I pour myself a glass of water, raking my hand through my hair as I lean against the counter. I'm messed up. When this case is over I'm definitely going to take some time off, these last few years have not been easy and I wonder if this is the start of burnout.

My work-life balance really needs adjusting that's for sure. Unbelievably, its right at that moment my mobile decides to ring. With a sigh I answer, but I know this isn't going to be good news, "Dunham."

"It's Broyles, there's been another murder - I'm sending the address to you now."

"OK, I'm on my way." I hang up. I'm not going to get to bed tonight.

* * *

><p>Walter wasn't answering his phone, which, since we are talking about Walter, isn't that unusual. Walter has lived here by himself now for just over a year. Astrid and I still make frequent visits, but he seems to cope on his own fairly well now. This would have been unfeasible a couple of years ago, when Walter's mental state was erratic, he's been more stable these last few months, aiding to the right combination of medication and the relationship we have built up with him. We've had our ups and downs, least of not when I found out about his involvement in my childhood, but strangely I can't imagine my life without him now.<p>

My gloved hand rattles the door knocker and I can hear Walter humming as he approaches the door. When the door opens a smile breaks across Walters face, "Olivia! What a lovely surprise" he is wearing nothing more than boxer shorts and a pair of socks. "Come in! I was just in the kitchen making Cocoa, would you like a mug?" He closes the door behind us.

"Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanting to come to a scene." I'm gratefull that I haven't woken him up.

Instantly he is interested, "Is there a dead body?"

"Yup." I reply.

"Excellent! I'll just grab my coat – "Walter makes his way down the hall towards the stand and grabs a brown wool coat.

"Actually, Walter," I interrupt him; "you might want to grab the rest of your clothes as well?"

Walter looks down at himself, "Right!" He heads into the back bedroom, "Be with you in a moment! Can you grab my kit; it should be in the living room somewhere."

The place isn't in too bad a state, although I can tell by the blanket and pillows on the couch that Walter probably doesn't sleep in his bed that often. Before I find his kit I make my way into the kitchen to check he hasn't left the stove on, it's almost second nature to us if we interrupt him at home as he never normally remembers to do it until we have been in the car driving for an hour. I turn the stove off just as a pot of milk threatens to boil over.

"Olivia?" Walter calls from the hall.

"Coming!" I call out turning back through the living room; I pick his kit up on the way past.

"Ready?" I can see he now has clothes on under his coat at least.

"Ready." Walter confirms, putting a hat on.

Just as we reach the car Walter turns to me, "I think I left the stove on."

I catch his arm as he turns to go back to his apartment, "I turned it off."

He frets, "You're sure? The button sticks."

I smile reassuringly, "I'm sure."

* * *

><p>We pull up to the scene, there's the usual assortment of vehicles half abandoned on the street, the blue and red lights flashing on the dashboards of the unmarked Federal cars.<p>

"This looks like a nice area." Walter muses, staring out the window. I take a look at the row of houses. I suppose it's not quite white picket fences but its close enough. "You should find yourself a nice husband Olivia and live here." His interfering is well-meaning, and I detect that it comes from a slightly paternal place.

"You got anyone in mind?" I'm smiling, we've had this conversation before and I get a different answer to this question every time I ask it.

"That man in the coffee shop, he always smiles at you." He's found me suitors in half of Boston.

"He smiles at everyone Walter." I reason.

A tall man in a dark suit makes his way over to us as we approach the house. "I'm Agent Wilkinson, my partner and I were on protection detail, we were in our car across the street. We patrolled the property every hour, but we didn't see any movement out front." Broyles is still going to hit the roof. We follow the Agent round the back of the house and a security light illuminates the back yard, "This light never came on either, but the perp got in through the back door." He points to the door to the rear of the house, "The glass in the door pane has been broken. We never heard or saw anything. I spotted the door on my last patrol. We rushed the house and found Mr Carter lying on his bedroom floor." He rakes a hand across his jaw and I can tell he is beating himself up about this. "I don't know what to say, it's like the guy was a ghost."

"Maybe he was." Walter says with a glint in his eye, I'm still trying not to jump to conclusions.

"Can we have a look at the scene?" I ask Wilkinson.

"Sure, upstairs, first door on the right." He gestures for us to go in.

We make our way inside trying not to disturb the broken glass on the floor of the kitchen, all the lights are on now and there are several investigators collecting evidence already.

Apart from the broken glass, there is nothing amiss downstairs, upstairs in the master bedroom is another story. Mr Carter, victim number four on our side and victim number eight over there; lies dead on his bedroom floor, his eyes are open, staring unseeing. Walter carefully steps around the bed to bend down next to the body. I can't see any obvious signs of injury from where I stand as I watch Walter work.

"Petechiae in the eyes." Walter announces, "He was asphyxiated, perhaps while he slept, they struggled," He points to the lamp on the floor, "which is why Mr Carter found himself on the floor. This part is quite straight forward; however I need to do some tests."

Walter gets several pieces of equipment out his case and begins taking samples and testing the room.

"Did he live alone?" I ask addressing Wilkinson who followed us up the stairs.

"No, he's married; she's a nurse, works nights. We've got a car picking her up now." He replies.

"There's nothing" Walter says dismayed, "– no chemical or radioactive substance here." He stands up, "Perhaps if I check down stairs, where he broke the glass?"

We follow Walter back down the stairs into the kitchen, where he makes his way straight into the throng of crime scene investigators. They turn to me, but I wave off their concerned looks, when Walter is investigating you can't really hold him back.

"Is there any other way to reach the backdoor without setting off the security light?" I ask Wilkinson.

"No, that's the first thing we checked, it covers the whole back yard." He explains.

"Walter?" I can tell by the look on his face he is now becoming frustrated by the number of people in his way.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing. Either his condition leaves no trace, or he is just a normal man." He looks disappointed, "I'll take some more samples to take back to the lab, maybe I am missing something."

My phone vibrates on my hip "Excuse me." I say to Wilkinson as I step past Walter whose getting more equipment from his case, "Agent Dunham." I answer as I make my way outside.

"Hello Agent Dunham, its Nina Sharp. You asked that I call as soon as I got back from my business trip, is everything ok?" I have been waiting on her call since this case started.

"Yes, do you still have security with you?" I can't help the sense of urgency that creeps into my tone.

"Indeed, I'm afraid I didn't catch the whole story, they told me you believe my life may be at risk?" There's a lot of noise in the background, it sounds like Nina has just stepped off the plane.

"It's a long story, but Nina, you can't be left on your own, can I come and meet with you to explain?" It's unlikely the murderer would strike twice in one night, but I'm not taking any chances with Massive Dynamics Chief Operating Officer.

"Certainly, I will arrange it for first thing in the morning. Preparations have already been made here, I won't be returning to my apartment tonight."

"Good, I'll see you tomorrow." I'm starting to lose track of what day it is.

"One more thing Olivia, do you believe this man would be capable of striking in public?" It's a loaded question.

Looking at the pattern of murders though I would think she may be more at risk at home. "Why do you ask?"

I fear the worst when Nina replies, "I'm guest speaking at the World Science and Technology Conference tomorrow night."

I better call Broyles.

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><p>AN: Thank you for reading and remember reviews make my day!<p>

Next chapter coming soon...


	7. Sight Unseen

AN: Hey guys, hope everyone is doing ok.

Next chapter...

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><p>"How intriguing, you know William never told me what my counterpart did over there, although I expect he knew she had been murdered. Do you think I will be at risk?"<p>

I've been in Nina's office for thirty minutes, I noticed on the way in that Security into the building has been stepped up considerably. "Since he seems to be picking the same victims and given your high profile I would say so, yes, the only thing that kept you safe initially was that you were out of the country, I fear now you're back..."

"He might make me a priority?" Nina finishes, flipping through the files.

"I'm afraid so. Now you understand the seriousness of the threat, are you still going to the conference tonight?"

Nina closes the file satisfied that she has read enough, "I've given it some thought," she says clasping her hands over the file and linking her fingers together, "but yes I will still be going. I have a large security team sweeping the building, and they will be staying there all day. No one is going to get in or out without them knowing about it. Of course, if you wish to attend with more Agents, my security team would be happy to liaise with you."

"We'll do that, I'll make the call." Seeing that the meeting is over, I stand up and get my phone out my pocket.

Nina stands up and hands the file back, "Olivia, before you go-" I pause and turn back to face her, "Forgive me if this sounds too personal, but, are you alright?" I open my mouth to reply but she continues, "It's just, you don't seem to be quite yourself?"

"To be honest," she nods for me to continue, "No, I don't think I am alright."

"Olivia," Nina gasps at the admission, and urges me to take a seat back down, "What's wrong?" She asks as she sits beside me on the couch.

"It's quite complicated." I sigh as I rub an absent hand across my forehead. "I don't think I have figured it out myself yet. I'm not sleeping very well and when I'm awake, I don't," I search for the words to explain it, "I don't feel real anymore." it's the best I can come up with at the moment, "That doesn't make much sense, I'm sorry."

"Olivia, you have been through a lot in the last six months, it's completely understandable. You haven't had a lot of time to come to terms with what's happened yet." Nina comforts. "If you need to talk or you need help, I'm here for you," She pauses collecting her thoughts, "but so is massive dynamic."

"Nina..." my tone holds a warning.

She waves it off, "I know what happened to you when you were kidnapped, the experiments that were done to you. These abilities have been forced to the forefront and I know you aren't ready to deal with them yet, but when you are, we can help."

She's right, one day I'm going to have to face up to it, lest I turn out like the other Cortexifan subjects. As adults they have been left permanently damaged, unable to function in normal society they have become a danger to themselves and others.

Is that what's starting to happen to me now, or is this something else?

* * *

><p>I grab a coffee before I meet up with Broyles. It's a nice day outside so we're having this meeting while taking a walk through Central Park.<p>

"What did they have to say?"

Broyles scoffs, "That it had been decommissioned, they weren't using it anymore."

"Unbelievable." We both knew this was the kind of response we would get.

"So I let them know, that since they weren't using it anymore, that we would be holding on to it."

They actually had the nerve to ask for it back, I can tell by Broyles' posture that underneath he is still simmering from the meeting. I hope he chewed them out.

I take a sip of my coffee, I'm starting to feel rejuvenated and I wonder if it's the caffeine or the fresh air. "They should have told us."

"Agreed."

A part of me feels a small sense of satisfaction that we discovered the device though. Another small step towards ridding our Universe of their malicious intentions.

"How'd it go with Nina?" Broyles asks changing the subject.

"You know Nina; she still wants to go ahead with tonight."

"You can have as many agents as you need." He pauses as he thinks of a way to phrase the next part, "All things considered it might be a good way to flush him out."

"Yes sir." That occured to me as well, though I don't like using Nina as bait. I check my watch, another hour before my briefing with the twenty six Agents we'll be using tonight.

"I've tasked Astrid with chasing up the mobile phone angle, maybe we'll get something from that."

"We'll catch him, one way or another." Hopefully before he kills someone else, I add silently.

* * *

><p>Turns out this isn't the logistical nightmare I thought it might be, all the emergency exits are alarmed, and there is only one way in, which is being manned by Massive Dynamics Security. Everyone coming in has to show proof of ID and we have distributed Robert Fabbri's picture to all the staff in the building. There are ten plain clothed agents in with the delegates, and a further sixteen positioned in the halls.<p>

I take my suit jacket off, so I'm left in just my white shirt and slip my bullet proof vest over my head. Agent Turner comes in as I'm adjusting the Velcro fastenings and inserting my tactical ear piece.

"Hey you ready to head round back?" He is a young agent, but earned a name for himself by getting one of the highest scores of all time on the shooting range.

I nod, "Let's go." We're going to be standing behind the stage while Nina makes her presentation.

All the agents check in, and we're the last team to announce "Turner and Dunham in position." It's not lit very well back here, but even if he got passed security at the front door, we have every floor covered. I still can't shake this uneasy feeling though when I remember back to last night, he did manage to evade two agents and a security system to murder Charles Carter.

Nina is introduced to the stage to a rapturous applause, and she begins by thanking the organisers for inviting her to open the weekend. I take a look out front; the spot lights on stage make it difficult to see the front row never mind the galleries at the back.

Nina is scheduled to speak for sixty minutes, she is telling the audience about a new cancer treatment that Massive Dynamic has developed. I have a new found perspective on Massive Dynamic now however, and wonder how much of this technology comes to us via William Bell in the alternate Universe. Their medical technology was decades ahead of us and the new innovations that they have developed will make Massive Dynamic millions of dollars worth of profit for years to come.

Turner comes round to stand beside me, "I did a sweep of the backstage area, we're all clear." He reports.

I tap my earpiece, "Dunham, all clear."

Flurries of reports in response come in from all round the building, everyone is all clear, I begin to relax, this night may yet go off without a hitch.

There's just fifteen minutes left and Nina is wrapping up her presentation, I take a walk into the back corridor, it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the change in light levels. Making my way to the end I meet Spence and one of Massive Dynamics security personnel standing guard at the double doors. "Nina is nearly finished," I update, "When she gets out the building we'll do another full search before we leave." If he is here, I'm not letting him get away.

"Understood." Spence nods.

My phone vibrates in my pocket; I give them a nod before making my way back, "Dunham." I can see two agents standing at the opposite end of the corridor.

"Olivia, its Astrid, Fabbri just turned his phone on, we're heading out while they narrow down the signal."

Instantly adrenaline pumps into my veins, "Do you have a general location?" I open the door to the backstage area and move towards the side of the stage.

"He's in New York."

There's a noise behind me and I turn round to face the source, "Astrid, I'll call you back." I don't wait for her reply before I hang up and jam the phone into my pocket. "Turner? Is that you?" I call out to but he doesn't reply, I draw my gun but keep it trained down. I walk slowly towards the source of the noise.

"What's up?" I jump as Turner comes out of the sound booth behind me. He has a laptop in there displaying live security feeds from around the building.

"Did you hear something?"

"No, Nina is on her final round of questions, she'll be finished in a couple of minutes."

"Great. Stay here, I thought I heard something, I'm going to sweep round back again." I flick my flashlight on, I definitely heard something. The back of the stage is dark, but it's worth checking out to put my mind at rest. I can see another agent standing at the opposite side, watching Nina on the stage. I search round the back, there are a lot of old boxes and clutter round here. I'm nervous that there could be too many hiding spaces, enough to conceal a man.

_Olivia._

I stop moving and hold my breath. Silence. I can't decide whether I heard anything or not, so I touch my hand to my ear, "Turner, did you say my name."

"Negative." He replies.

I make my way further into the back, gun and flashlight trained out in front of me.

_Help me._

My pulse quickens, as I scan round for the source of the voice, but there is no one here.

_Remember. _

"Who's there?" I speak out loud; I wait a few minutes but get no reply. With shocking realisation it occurs that I am now not only hearing voices in my head I'm talking back to them as well. It's probably got something to do with having not slept for two days but it leaves me feeling really spooked. It was a man's voice, but not one I recognised. I nearly jump out of my skin when my phone vibrates again, its Astrid probably calling back to make sure everything is alright. "Hey." I reply as I head back round to where Turner is standing.

"We got him." Astrid announces triumphantly. "They picked him up outside a Starbucks, can you believe that?"

The way this night is turning out; I'd believe anything right now.

"We're taking him to headquarters for questioning." Astrid continues, as I remain silent.

I take a look out onto the stage as Nina finishes, there is a round of applause and she steps down with two security guards flanking her. "That's good news Astrid, Nina just finished here as well." I open the door to the sound booth but it's empty. I swear I'm going to get a bell for Turner. "I'll call back when we get finished up."

"Ok, at least we can relax now." And she hangs up.

I put the phone back into my pocket, where the hell did he go? I walk towards the rear exit, wondering if he went out that way.

My foot catches on something and I trip forward a couple of steps. I shine my flashlight into the darkness, and expose the horror of what lies there. Its Turner, his throat has been slashed. My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I tap my hand to my ear, "Agent down, stage right." I whisper harshly.

And then all hell breaks loose.

Shouts of surprise outside in the hall, a thump of a body hitting the ground quickly followed by a volley of gun shots. Instinctively I duck down, not sure which direction the shots are being fired in.

"Shots fired! Shots fired! Suspect on location!" One of our Agents reports over the comms.

"He's invisible!" Another voice crackles through, one I don't recognise.

Momentarily I'm stunned, I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I'm feeling extremely vulnerable standing here in the dark with an invisible killer on the loose. I must have just been yards from him when he killed Turner.

"Say again?" someone asks and I want to tell them all to cut the chatter, so I can hear this guy coming.

"I said he's fucking invisible!" Comes the reply through my earpiece, and there is absolutely no mistaking what he said this time.

I make my way out into the corridor, both sets of agents from each side have moved from their positions. More shots further away this time and I take a short cut through the side rooms. The comms come to life again, "Agent down! He's still on the move, heading for the elevator."

I turn the corner and I can't believe my eyes.

He is invisible, except he isn't, not to me.

He is given away by the gold glimmer.

He doesn't belong to this side.

I'm too slow reacting and already he is throwing the door open to the stairwell. "FBI! FREEZE!" I yell after him and my voice reverberates down the stairways. "Suspect is heading down stairwell 8." I report through the comms system, I'm hoping another Agent will come through the doors below me and between us we'lll have him trapped. I continue sprinting after him taking the stairs two at a time and jumping the last few on each floor, he's fast on his feet and I can't aim at him before he is turning down the next flight.

When I reach the bottom I burst out the fire escape after him. I turn in circles in the alley, my gun pointing at the shadows, but he's gone. I want to scream, we nearly had him and he has taken the life of at least two Agents tonight.

I get my phone out and use the speed dial, he answers on the second ring, "Broyles its Dunham; we've got a serious problem."

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><p>AN: Yey! I can't tell you how much I was looking forward to revealing this twist; I've been bursting to get it out for weeks! Did you see it coming? (Pardon the pun.)<p>

Let me know your thoughts...


	8. The Third Bar

AN: Many thanks to those that posted reviews for the last chapter, it really helps to know that people enjoy reading my ramblings. This started off as one chapter, but I think it might work out better as two...stay tuned!

Enjoy...

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><p>I've made it back to my apartment and with no particular care I throw my coat over the back of the couch as I walk straight through into the kitchen. Tonight was a disaster, one dead Agent, another who remains in critical condition, there's an invisible killer on the loose which would be bad enough, except this one came through from the parallel universe.<p>

What a mess, but at least Nina is safe for the moment.

All these things churn inside me, but they pale in comparison to what's really bothering me and the reason I am pouring myself a rather large glass of whiskey. I was distracted and Turner got killed, before tonight I wouldn't have questioned my ability to do my job, but now? Now I'm not so sure.

The drink goes down a bit too easily, and I'm pouring a second.

With everything I have seen since I started working the Fringe cases, I know better to discount these events, there has to be a reason for it. It could be wishful thinking but the alternative puts me in St. Claire's with Walter as my roomy. It's not much to go on at the moment and there are bigger problems to deal with first but I think when the time comes, I will have to ask Walter for help.

Broyles wants us at headquarters at midday for a status meeting, and I know we have more than a few issues to discuss, not at least who has jurisdiction over the case. Jurisdiction squabbles happen between agencies all the time but there is no precedence for one between Universes.

The alcohol settles on my empty stomach, making me feel sleepy. I hope to get at least a few hours sleep; maybe the drink will keep the dreams at bay tonight.

* * *

><p>"Coffee?"<p>

By the looks of things, Astrid has been here at headquarters all night. I nod as I make my way over to stand beside her at the coffee pot.

"Broyles told me what happened at the conference. Has there been any word?"

"Critical but stable," which is the only news I have heard about Agent Rameriz who was injured last night. I accept the offered mug, "Thanks. Did you talk with Fabbri?"

"Briefly, enough to confirm that he wasn't involved in any of the murders. They're still going to charge him with the computer hacking, but he is cooperating." Astrid sighs, "Which is quite refreshing. He has an apartment in Brookline where he keeps his equipment, there's a team there now securing all the evidence."

"At least he won't be selling any more classified information to Walternate. How many more do you think will turn up before we put a stop to this completely?"

"No way of knowing."

We make our way through the corridors towards the meeting room, instantly I feel that something is going to be quite different today, there are two Agents standing guard outside the room. They are not local to this area, although I am quite familiar with them; usually I pass them in the corridors of the Liberty Island facility.

I can feel my blood pressure rising as I nod to the agents to let me past and I try retain a neutral expression as I enter the room. "You wanted to see us sir?" I address Broyles, while managing to ignore the other two occupants in the room.

"Take a seat; I trust I don't need to make introductions." His voice carries an edge, but it's not directed at me, rather it has been caused by the heated discussion we have just interrupted.

I sit down opposite Fauxlivia and Agent Lincoln Lee.

Strangely I don't feel any animosity towards Lincoln, the time I spent working with the alternative Fringe Division I grew to like his company. Given that he thought I was her, it wasn't a genuine interaction, but his easy smile and charm was a relief to be around. Since the disappearance of their Broyles, he has been acting command of the Division and reports directly to Walternate.

"Agent Lee and Dunham will now be actively involved in the case." Broyles states as I make brief eye contact with Fauxlivia, it infuriates me how she always manages to look so smug. "Since these events are occurring on our side however," Broyles directs towards me. "We will be retaining full authority over the case. You are consultants only, is that clear?" Given the atmosphere in the room, it would seem they had come here wanting full control over the investigation.

"We're clear." Lincoln replies, "however our orders stand that if we apprehend Robert Fabbri, we will be taking him back with us. That is not for negotiation."

"Ok." Broyles concedes, "I know this will be a challenge, but I urge you all to see this as an opportunity for us to work together." He addresses Fauxlivia and Lincoln, "You will follow Agent Dunham's orders. Understood?"

Lincoln nods, "Understood." But I can see the twitch in Fauxlivia's eye, she is not happy about this arrangement. "We also request you return our firearms, given the nature of the case, we're not prepared to track him down unarmed."

Broyles rubs his hand across his forehead, debating the request. "I'll see what I can do."

"One more thing, we will be remaining in contact with our side," Lincoln produces two communication devices, "These have been specifically modified to allow us to communication directly with Fringe Division Headquarters, it could provide us with a tactical advantage for tracking Fabbri down."

My eyes widen at the devices, I can feel my blood pressure raising again, no wonder they don't use the typewriter anymore if this is the kind of technology they have developed. I clench my teeth together, constantly we find out they are running rings round us, a quick look to Fauxlivia and I can see that smug look is back. Keeping my anger in check is going to be a challenge.

"You're dismissed." Broyles stands, "Dunham, a minute before you go."

"I'll head back to the lab. I better warn Walter before they show up." Astrid tells me before leaving; it's not just my feelings that will be tested today, Walter is going to be quite upset by Fauxlivia's return, and that's an understatement.

The door clicks shut and Broyles sighs, "I'm sorry, this was out of my hands. It all happened so fast, I didn't have time to warn you they would be here."

I'm already pacing, "I understand, really, I do." But I can't help feeling like I got ambushed. I turn, biting my lower lip, "Those communication devices, how can we trust them? Constantly I feel like they make fools out of us."

"I know. I feel the same way, Olivia," the uncharacteristic use of my first name gives me pause, "be careful, watch your back."

"I will. The sooner we catch this guy the sooner they leave."

I'm giving Astrid a head start before we leave the FBI headquarters, hopefully she will be able to explain the situation to Walter in plenty time before we arrive. I don't want Walter to go into one of his withdrawn episodes; we really are going to need his help with the case.

I noticed a few Agents in the office this morning giving me some concerned looks and unable to stand it any longer I retreat into the women's locker room. I did manage to get a solid six hours worth of sleep last night, but it has done little to improve the tiredness in my features. I don't recognise the woman in the mirror; I have very obvious dark circles around my eyes, I'm beyond looking tired, I now look quite ill. I take another look at myself once I splash cold water on my face, I'm also losing weight.

I catch up with Fauxlivia and Lincoln as they go through the reports from last night. They are huddled in a side room with files spread over the table. I overhear their conversation as I approach the door.

"I really miss coffee."

"Yeah, me too." Fauxlivia replies, "Isn't it strange the different ways things work out? They still have Broyles, but they don't have you."

"I've noticed that, wonder what I'm doing. Maybe I'm a millionaire."

She lets out a laugh, "You're probably a bum."

"Funny." He deadpans.

They have an easy way with each other which makes me smile; I make my presence known by knocking on the door. "You ready to go?"

"Sure," Lincoln pushes the lose papers back into the file, "Where are we going?"

"Walters's lab at Harvard. He has been working on some theories; they might give us an idea on how to catch him."

* * *

><p>Fauxlivia and I haven't yet spoken directly to one another yet but I can feel the gloves come off when we get in the car. "Why didn't you tell us about the typewriter?"<p>

"We weren't using it anymore, what did it matter." Fauxlivia responds from the backseat.

"See, how are we supposed to trust you when you keep things back all the time? How do we know you didn't deliberately send this invisible guy through to spy on us?" I'm trying to keep calm since I am driving but this was probably not the best time to start this conversation.

Fauxlivia scoffs, "You have some serious trust issues don't you?"

The atmosphere changes and I feel my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.

"I never did find out the reason for that." Fauxlivia is trying to provoke me and unfortunately it works every time.

"Don't pretend you know me, just because you high jacked my life for two months, you know nothing about me."

"Sure, whatever." She dismisses but she is not finished, "Might explain why you live such a lonely life."

"Liv -" Lincoln warns from the passenger seat.

Unperturbed by his warning she continues, "Did an ex cheat on you? No, it runs deeper than that." She muses, "Did your Daddy beat you?"

That's it, "Why don't you just shut the hell up!" abruptly I swerve my SUV off the road into the hard shoulder and I receive a few honks from passing motorists at the manoeuvre. I hit the brakes going for my seatbelt release; I don't care anymore, to hell with diplomacy.

"Woah-Woah, ladies why don't we just take a moment." Lincoln catches my hand and stops me from exiting the SUV,

"Hit a nerve did I?"

"Liv!" Lincoln turns in his seat to look at her. "Please."

"Fine."

"I'm sorry; we didn't make a very good first impression," Lincoln lowers his voice again as he talks me. "We haven't given you many reasons to trust us, but believe me when I tell you that we had no idea that someone had managed to slip through the security systems at the bridge. I know it won't be easy and obviously you two still have some issues, but if we can just work together-" he drifts off.

I know he's right, I put my seatbelt back on and start the SUV back up. I catch Fauxlivia's eye in the rear view mirror but she remains silent.

I hope we solve this case quickly.

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><p>AN: Next Chapter coming up...<p> 


	9. Darkness Falls

AN: Part 2, I have now written a few chapters in advance now, so hopefully uploads will come faster.

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><p>"You! You deceiving trickster!" Walter marches over to Fauxlivia as we enter the lab.<p>

"Walter!" Astrid catches his arm, "Come on, we talked about this. We have to work the case together."

"I know that! But I don't have to pretend to like it!" Walter snaps back. He points a finger at her, "I'm watching you. I won't be fooled again!"

Fauxlivia holds her hands up, "No tricks, I promise, we just want to help."

"Do you have any theories Walter?" I try to draw him back to the case.

"Lots of theories, but I can't prove any of them. He left no trace at the last murder. Nothing!" He throws down a stack of papers which I assume must be negative test results. "What happened last night? When you saw him, what was it like?" He turns back to me.

I sit down on one of the lab stools, "Well, I couldn't see him, not exactly. I saw the glimmer he gives off, just like anyone does when they don't belong to this side." Inadvertently I look over at Fauxlivia and Lincoln, after a couple of seconds I can see the same effect on them. Blinking it away I turn back to Walter, "Do you have any idea how he is invisible?"

"Well the tests have ruled out any chemical means. I feel this may be a physical displacement, but without any more information on what the lab was specifically working on, I can't tell conclusively.

"A physical displacement?" Lincoln queries.

"Perhaps. From the accounts of the accident, there was a large explosion at the lab, given the unknown nature of the experiments it is impossible he has been shifted slightly from our space time. Enough that light passes right through him, but not enough that stops him from interacting with his surroundings. He may be invisible but he is not intangible."

"Could this be reversed?" I ask.

"Maybe, it's impossible to guess unless I examine him directly."

"Ok, well how does that help us find him?"

"I don't know." Walter says deflated. "There is no way to detect him."

This is not what I was hoping to hear.

"Let's look at this another way." Lincoln pauses, before looking at me. "When you found yourself over on our side -" he has a sympathetic look in his eyes, "Do you remember what you did? Where did you go?"

"I tried to find Massive Dynamic." I start but these are not memories I like talking about. "It didn't exist there." The idea hits me and I stand up, "Astrid, the address of his lab, what's there on this side?"

Astrid does a quick search on her laptop, "Old storage warehouses. Most of them are abandoned."

"Sounds like a place you might hide out?" Fauxlivia suggests and she's right, it's the perfect place.

"Let's go check it out."

* * *

><p>"This is different." Lincoln remarks as we turn the corner. "No Amber." The warehouses down this end are all deserted. The rain is heavy and it batters off the windshield, hindering visibility as I bring the SUV to a stop half way down. "We should check this place out, see if we can find any evidence that he has been in here." Lincoln suggests.<p>

The three of us remain still for another moment, putting off the inevitable soaking for a few more seconds. "Better stick close since I am the only one that can see him." I say getting my flashlight out.

Fauxlivia looks to Lincoln, "No arguments there."

That's got to be a first I think, but I keep the remark to myself.

We exit the SUV and immediately I can feel wet hair sticking to my face, we walk to the first door and I am alarmed when I see that the padlock has been broken. We all have the same thought as we get our service weapons out. Lincoln pushes the door and with little effort it swings open revealing the interior. I point my flashlight in and do a quick sweep of the area before we head in.

The relief felt at getting out the rain is temporary; this place is filled with old machinery covered in dust sheets. Sweeping our flashlights further into the warehouse causes eerie shadows to dance around, giving the illusion of movement. This is going to be a hard place to search.

At first there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary, until I see what Lincoln has trained his light on, there is a set of well defined footprints in the dusty floor leading off somewhere to the left. It could be nothing I remind myself, they could belong to a homeless person, although I have to admit they look fairly recent. I begin following the trail, Lincoln behind me and Fauxlivia picking up the rear. I strain my hearing trying to sense even the slightest noise that would alert me that someone was in here, but I can't hear anything. The footprints stop at the bottom of a flight of wooden stairs.

I aim my flashlight up the steps but there is a darkness at the top my light can't penetrate. I take a deep breath and start my ascent, thankfully the stairs don't creak and I hope that if anyone is lurking at the top, we can surprise them before they hear us coming.

I get to the top and it opens up into a raised sectioned of wood flooring, we all fan out trying to get as much spread with our flashlights as possible. A few seconds of silence pass before there is a distinct sound of wood snapping, I feel the floor shudder under my feet and turn to warn Lincoln and Fauxlivia but its too late, there is an ear splitting crack and in horror I watch as Lincoln falls, disappearing through a gaping hole in the floor.

"Lincoln!" Fauxlivia barely manages to step back, avoiding a similar fate. She shines her light down and I can just about make him out, lying about fifteen feet down and he's not moving.

We are so focused on trying to see if there is a way down to get to Lincoln, I nearly miss the creak of a floorboard. I whirl myself round, gun and flashlight trained where I heard the noise and come face to face with our invisible man.

"Robert! Don't move!" I command, but it doesn't sound as self assured as it should.

He looks frightened and extremely startled that I make direct eye contact with him. Of course, he thought no one would see him standing there. He doesn't make this easy though and takes off running into the darkness.

I turn back to face Fauxlivia and she see's my dilemma, "Go get him!" She shouts, "I'll help Lincoln."

"Here," I pass her my mobile phone, "Call Broyles, get back up here now!"

I take off after him, dodging past a maze of stacked boxes; thankfully I'm just in time to see him running out through a back door. I follow, and soon find myself outside trying to negotiate down metal fire escape stairs that have become slick in the rain. By the time I reach the bottom he already has a good head start, I'm not going to let him get away this time though. The back of the warehouse leads to a train yard and as I scramble down a steep embankment of loose stones, I pray that I don't lose my footing. I can still see him in the distance, the yellow glimmer he gives off makes him easy to spot in the dark night, even through the torrential rain. He runs past rows of train cars before he makes a sharp change of direction to the right. I sprint to catch up not wanting to lose him, but as I turn the corner I release I've fallen for his trap, something very solid connects' with my face.

Stars explode.

I don't remember hitting the ground and I struggle to get back on my feet. The second and third blows hit my back and it drives the wind from me, desperately I cling onto consciousness. In the haze I realise I've dropped my gun and frantically I try to spot it in the heavy rain and gloom; it's landed a few yards to my left. Glowing feet come into view and I'm hoping he's not about to deliver another blow.

"You're not supposed to see me!" He's furious. He kicks me in the side not too gently and I roll over onto my back. "This makes everything harder to do!" I suppose the anonymity invisibility grants would remove some of your moral conscience after so many years. "I have to stop them! Why don't you understand? They'll do the same here." He seethes. I notice he holds a shovel in his right hand, which would explain the pain in my head and back.

"Robert ... listen we... we could try...try and help you." I say, still trying to remember how to breathe. There's something running down the side my face, I hope it's just the rain.

"NO! No one can help! You're wrong. You're trying to trick me! You're all wrong and they need to be stopped!"

"Please listen, it doesn't have to be like this...I know someone...he could help you." I gasp out.

He drops the shovel and I wonder if I'm starting to get through to him. He starts pacing, mumbling, he presses his hands to the side of his head. He turns sharply back in my direction, "You're lying!" he catches me off guard as he lunges towards me and straddles my chest wrapping his hands around my neck.

Black spots appear in my vision as I struggle to free myself. I don't have time to wait for help to arrive; I bring my thumbs up and press them hard into his eyes. He screeches and instantly he lets go of my throat. Realising I might not get this opportunity again; I size up the distance between myself and my gun, I buck him off before scrambling madly for my weapon. He spots my intended target though and staggers forwards towards the gun as well.

We reach the gun at the same time and struggle for possession; I nearly have it as I try to twist his wrist round when I feel a sharp knee into my mid section. It knocks me off balance and I stumble back, tripping and falling backwards onto the train track.

The rain continues down relentless, my vision is greying out and in despair I can make out my gun in his hands. My mind is sluggish as I see him take aim at me, "No wait, please-" we both jump as a bullet ricochets off the train carriage next to us.

Fauxlivia is running down the embankment shouting, but with the blood pounding in my head I can't make out what she is saying. I know she is guessing Roberts' position when she takes another couple of covering shots, if only she could see him like I do, he would have been dead from her first shot. Robert stumbles on the loose stones in his panic. Fauxlivia doesn't let up, and squeezes off another couple of rounds at the side of the carriage, Robert turns and runs off into the night.

I'm unsteady on my feet as I stand up. My brain feels muddy, and I turn to look at Fauxlivia. She is now sprinting towards me, still shouting, there's a terrified look on her face but I realise too late she is trying to warn me.

I can feel the rumble under my feet, turning around the lights from the freight train nearly blind me.

I don't have time to move as I stare at certain death.

I can hear screaming but I don't know if it's coming from me or Fauxlivia.

There's a bright flash.

I don't feel any pain.

Darkness.

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><p>AN: Woah! You know where the review button is... it might make me put the next chapter up quicker, hint hint.<p> 


	10. Philosphy Of Mind

AN: Thank you to the reviewers for your kind words!

I had fully intended to get this chapter up quicker but life got in the way a bit this week, so apologies for leaving you hanging.

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><p><em>There is nothing but the darkness.<em>

_I have always tried to hold onto the belief that the afterlife, whatever that might mean to you, would be a warm bright place. _

_This is a void, an endless oblivion._

_I feel disconnected from my body like I only exist in thought._

_I start to panic, this place feels wrong._

_The darkness shifts around me and know that I am not alone here._

"_You can't stay here, Olivia."_

_A male voice resonates from the darkness and despite the situation I find myself in, the voice has a calming effect and I recognise it from somewhere _

_It's the same voice I heard backstage at the conference. _

"_I know you don't remember me, but you will in time. Don't be scared Olivia, open your eyes."_

_I didn't even know they were closed._

"_Open your eyes."_

"Olivia, can you hear me? Open your eyes."

I'm still lying on the ground in the train yard, it's still dark but the rain has stopped. Charlie is kneeling over me while his hands are gently cradling my head.

"Charlie?" My senses are coming back, enough to know that my Charlie is dead.

"Hey kiddo, you had me scared for a minute. You know they are going nuts over there."

I struggle to sit up but his hand on my shoulder halts my efforts.

"You should probably stay still, there's an ambulance on its way."

"I don't need an ambulance. Just, please, could you help me sit up?" This time Charlie obliges and between us both I get into a sitting position.

I've crossed over.

Now that I can look around I can see that things are quite different. There are no trains here and I am quite thankful for that. I'm lying in a large area of waste ground and off to the side I can see a building encased in amber.

"You scared the hell outa 'Liv. She got the message across when she figured out you weren't underneath a freight train. You've got some good timing there."

Something throbs on my head just above my right eyebrow and I reach up, only to wince when my fingers make contact with the skin.

"You've got a nasty cut on your head," Charlie explains

I can hear the sound of the sirens approaching.

"You need a ride back?"

The thought of being here any longer where I could be at the mercy of Walternate shakes me out of the daze I'm in. "Uh, actually." I can feel a strange pins and needles sensation at the back of my head. "Could you help me stand up?" Charlie helps me up and we take a couple of steps off to the side, I don't want to reappear in the middle of the freight train. I start to feel the pull and I know I don't have much longer.

"You know 'Liv isn't too bad when you get to know her, she was just following orders. The message she sent over, the one asking me to come here and see if I could find you, she sounded really frightened, I've never heard 'Liv like that before."

"She thought she watched me die." I remember how it affected Broyles when his double was sent over, already dead and missing some body parts, Walternate did that to one of his own people. I wonder if Fauxlivia would follow all of Walternates' orders so blindly if she knew the truth. "Thanks Charlie."

The edges of my vision seem to stretch out and speed up, even though I'm not moving.

"You're welcome." Sincere, just like my Charlie was, "And you know, drop in anytime." I can hear the smile in his voice. "Tell 'Liv I said "Hi"."

Then the nauseating disorientation of crossing between the universes as the world shifts around me. It occurs to me that this is the first time since I was a child that I have been able to cross without the use of the sensory deprivation tank.

The tank definitely smoothes out the ride.

My vision comes back into focus, Charlie has disappeared. My knees feel weak and I collapse down onto the ground retching. I can hear lots of voices round me, there are considerably more people here than there was when I left. My eyes squeeze shut as I continue to heave, a comforting hand lands on my shoulder.

"Are you ok?" it's Fauxlivia.

"Yeah, just need a minute." The world seems to be tilting back and forth in a lazy rocking motion.

"You really scared me..."

"I scared me too." I offer, sitting up on my knees as the dizziness starts to pass. "Charlie says Hi."

That breaks the air of seriousness between us.

"I wasn't sure you could do that, but I thought I better get Charlie out to find you in case you were hurt."

"Agent Dunham," It's Broyles, "Welcome back, I've got agents combing the area and temporary road blocks around the warehouse district, but it looks like he might have slipped through."

"Did you find my gun?" I'm looking around the area but I can't see it, "He's got my gun." I can't hide the alarm in my voice.

Broyles fingers the radio in his hand, "Attention all agents, suspect is armed, repeat suspect is armed, proceed with caution."

"I could help." I try to get onto my feet but it's a struggle.

"No, we got this, let the paramedics look at you then take the rest of the night off, that's an order."

"Come on." Fauxlivia grasps me under the elbow and helps me to my feet. "They're over here."

I'm glad for the support; the ground feels like the deck of a ship in rough seas.

"Lincoln! Is he alright?" I'd almost forgotten I wasn't the only casualty tonight.

"Oh he's fine, you know what men are like when they get hurt." She brushes it off, but I can hear the concern in her voice. "They're going to transport him back home; our medical technology is a bit more advanced than yours. He'll be back when he gets the all clear."

I can see the flashing lights of half a dozen Federal cars, plus an ambulance.

"Hey! Need some help over here!" Fauxlivia calls out the paramedic exiting the ambulance.

The paramedic see's us and motions us around the back, "What's your name?"

"Olivia Dunham." I answer as I take a seat in the back.

"What happened here? Is this your only injury?" He presses a large pad of gauze to my head just above my right eyebrow.

I hold back a hiss, "No, my ribs too." I gloss over his first question.

"Can you hold that to you head please?" He instructs before there's a stab of pain from a pen light being flashed into my eyes. "Your pupils are a little sluggish, do you have a headache? Feeling nauseous?"

"Yes." I don't know if that's from my head injury or my recent trip across dimensions. I'm confused as he gets a reading from a blood pressure cuff I don't remember him slipping on, I seem to be twenty seconds behind events here.

"You're blood pressure is a bit low. With your head injury we're going to have to take you to Boston General."

"What? No, I'm fine. I don't need to go to hospital."

"What's your badge number?" Fauxlivia asks.

I forgot she was still there.

"Um..." Is the eloquent response I can muster to that question, the world in front of me is skipping about like a bad satellite signal.

The paramedic nods at the assessment of the situation, "You want to ride with us?" He asks Fauxlivia.

"Sure."

* * *

><p>"Well it doesn't look like anything is broken. Your head and chest X-rays have come back clear." The ER doctor announces as he sweeps the curtain aside. "You've got a concussion and some bruised ribs though, so you're going to have to take it easy for a couple of days until they heal. We'll get that cut closed then you can be on your way. Also you can't be left on your own tonight, maybe your sister could stay with you?" He says.<p>

How does he know I have a sister? Rachel's not even here, then I see Fauxlivia looking at me from her seated position in the corner of the cubicle. She is trying desperately hard to disguise her amusement, he thinks we're twins.

"I can stay with her, that's not a problem."

"Ok, well your head is going to need sutures, there's a plastic surgeon on call coming to do it. Don't want to leave a scar" He says with a kind smile. "You're probably going to have a bit of a shiner in the morning as well." He turns to Fauxlivia, "Remember if she starts getting more symptoms, headaches, vomiting, or drowsy you'll have bring her back, ok?"

"Got it." Fauxlivia confirms and we're left alone again, "You guys are so old fashioned over here." Fauxlivia muses, "It seems almost barbaric, you should have stayed over my side and they would have healed your head up straight away, no needles."

I don't want to explain it's not their medical technology I'm concerned about, it's about being over there and not being able to get back, I'll gladly take the sutures.

"I'm going to make a call, see if I can get someone to drop your SUV off here so we can get home." Seems like a good idea, I don't want to wait around here any longer than I need to.

I'm assured that there shouldn't be any permanent damage and hopefully no lasting scars, but I can tell by the dull thud in the back of my head that I have one hell of a headache brewing.

Fauxlivia comes back in just as the surgeon is finishing up. "We good to go?"

"Yeah we're all done." He finishes up before securing gauze over the wound.

"Thanks." I sign the release documents, just as we have good insurance with our job.

"Come on Sis, let's get you home." She doesn't even try to make that sound convincing, but I think I'm starting to like her sense of humour. We make our way outside as she leads me over to where my SUV is parked. "Give me your car keys, there's no way I'm letting you drive when you can barely walk in a straight line."

I hand them over without protest.

I can see her looking at me with concern, "You sure you don't need to stay in? You look really pale, well, paler than you have been these last few days."

"It's not from my head; the journey was a bit rough." I offer in explanation. Somehow I also found a place I had never gone to before, the strange dark place of the void, or was that just a figment of my unconscious mind? "I'll be fine."

"Ok, but no puking in the car."

* * *

><p>Back in my apartment, I make my way to the kitchen to find some Advil.<p>

Fauxlivia walks in behind me and leans against the doorway into the kitchen, "I could do with a drink."

"Help yourself." I pop two pills into my mouth.

She hands me a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Why are you being nice to me?" This is without doubt the longest we have ever gone without trading insults.

"You scared the hell out of me, I thought you were dead." She pauses as she gathers her thoughts, "In a way, it was like seeing myself die. I guess, working with you and being over here, you're not the monsters we were lead to believe you were." I take a seat at the table as I watch her move about my kitchen with ease.

I'm slightly taken aback, "Are you trying to apologise?"

She sighs, "Yes, and I don't do it very often."

"Really? I couldn't tell." I reply sarcastically, but with a glint in my eye.

"When I got back, Broyles went missing-"

I'm thankful that she has her back to me at the moment; she missed the alarm that flashed across my face at the mention of Broyles, but I manage to regain my composure before she turns around.

"He just disappeared, we couldn't trace him and I thought it might have been connected to the last case you worked on. I pulled the files, you killed the Candyman, you saved his son and no doubt hundreds of others. That was the night you were captured on Liberty Island trying to escape. You knew then who you really were didn't you?"

"Yes." I keep my tone even, but my heart is pounding at the direction this conversation is taking.

"But you still saved Christopher."

I nod; I couldn't speak even if I wanted to.

"That's not the actions of a monster. Things are not as black and white as they first seemed." She takes a breath and looks up from her glass, "I'm sorry for what we did to you."

I'm speechless. I haven't given her enough credit; maybe she isn't so blind after all. This puts a new perspective on things, I always knew that one day I would talk to her about Broyles and the sacrifice he made for me, but up until this moment I didn't think she would have believed my explanation. Now she might.

"How do you do it?" the question is asked quietly.

I'm completely thrown by the question, I'm still not over the fact that she apologised to me. "How do I do what?"

"When you travel to other realities?"

Somehow I knew she was asking about that, I would be curious too had our roles been reversed. It wasn't going to be easy to explain, I certainly have never verbalised the experience before. "Well before tonight, I thought I could only do it with the help of a sensory deprivation tank, I've not been able to cross over without one since I was a child. It all happened so fast, it was over before I realised I had done it. Normally I've got to clear my mind and relax, and then I start thinking about one thing."

Fauxlivia sits down opposite me, intrigued.

"That I am nothing. It's not so much that _I_ travel somewhere, more like everything passes through me as I stay still."

The condensation that's forming on the outside of the bottle runs down my fingers and reminds me I'm holding a drink, taking a small sip of water I continue. "You ever had that feeling, when you're drifting off to sleep and you feel like your falling?"

Fauxlivia nods in agreement.

"It's like that, you're falling, but you're not going anywhere."

We're quiet for a while, letting the words hang in the air. I blame the concussion for loosening my tongue, but it's out before I know what I've said, "It must be nice to know you're not the broken one."

She's taken back by the comment, before the words tumble out "What? No that's not..."

I hold my hand up, cutting her off "It's ok, forget I said that."

"You're not broken." There's a steely look of conviction in her eyes that almost convinces me of that fact.

"I just mean that you're happy, you have friends, a loving fiancée, a life outside work, you're not a cortexifan freak..." I pause before adding quietly, "Mom." Oh god, don't choke up, that's it, no more talking tonight. I stand and turn to head into the living room.

"But you do have a photographic memory, a sister and a beautiful niece-"

I smile at the thought of Ella

"Not to mention super powers."

I laugh at that one as I turn back round to face her.

She quirks her eyebrow "And don't forget the most important thing."

"What's that?"

"Unlimited supplies of coffee." She says in a mock serious tone. She polishes off her drink and stands, "I'll sleep on the sofa."

I'm too tired to argue about that one, so I nod in agreement, "Help yourself if you need anything, you probably know where everything is anyway." The last part laced with the acknowledgment that she did spend two months living in my apartment.

I still don't know if I can trust her completely, but after tonight I will definitely have to re-evaluate some of my opinions.

* * *

><p>AN: As always, thank you for reading.<p> 


	11. Entropy

AN: Wow, thank you for all your responses, I really enjoy reading what you think about my story. I am very glad that I'm managing to pitch the characters right; it's always a huge bugbear of mine when writers start going OOC.

So here we go then, a little mid-week upload.

* * *

><p>Sunlight trickles in through my bedroom window and it dances across my closed eyelids. It's not the reason I have woken up though, there is a dull pounding in my head and it takes me a few moments to remember the cause of my current condition. I push myself into a sitting position but it's not just my head that's going to be complaining today, my ribs protest at the change of position.<p>

Blearily I search out the time on my alarm clock.

10:00am

It can't be, but I check my wrist watch but it only confirms that I have been asleep for more than eleven hours. Why didn't my alarm go off? More importantly why didn't Fauxlivia wake me up? Before I go find my new house guest I make my way over to the mirror to check out the damage.

There is not enough concealer in the world that will hide the swath of black and purple bruising around my swollen eye. From the pain in my side I think my ribs may be a matching colour. I lift the corner of my t-shirt with difficulty and see that the bruising extends around my side and up my back. It's going to be a few weeks before I can think about going out for a morning run again.

It's then I notice the hushed voices coming from my living room.

"Morning." Fauxlivia is the first to see me.

Astrid swivels round on the couch. Her eyes widen as she looks at me. "Oh my god, Olivia." She crosses my living room in three strides. "Broyles told me what happened last night. How are you feeling?"

"Been better. It probably looks worse than it is."

She leads me over to the couch. "I called this morning, but you were still asleep. Fauxlivia asked me to come round."

"Fauxlivia?" my namesake queries with a smile "Never mind." She turns to me, "Do you remember last night?"

"The bit with the invisible man, a shovel and the dimension hopping, yeah quite clearly." I say while rubbing the side of my head, it still feels like I got run over by the freight train.

"What about after that, when we got home and you went to bed?"

Oh god, what happened?

There is a look of concern on her face that makes me nervous. "I don't remember anything until I woke up this morning."

Fauxlivia and Astrid share a look.

I'm really nervous now. "What happened?"

"You were shouting, I had to wake you up several times, you don't remember anything?"

"No."

"Were you having nightmares?"

"I don't know..."

"Olivia?" Astrid isn't going to let me skip over this conversation.

"I've been having bad dreams for a while. I don't normally get more than a few hours of sleep at a time."

"That's why you haven't been looking well lately?"

"Yeah."

"You need to talk to someone, Olivia. You know Walter and I are here for you, don't you?"

"I know." I thought these dreams would go away, but if the events of the last couple of days is anything to go by its just getting worse, to the point it's even affecting me when I'm awake.

Fauxlivia hands me a glass of water and the box of Advil, "Just as well I let you sleep in then, you need the rest. Broyles phoned this morning, but there's no rush for you to report in."

I must have been dead to the world not to hear all these phone calls.

Astrid picks up, "He has everyone working on the evidence they collected at the warehouse. They found a list of potential victims, it looks like he was still trying to track a lot of them down, he only had addresses for a handful of them. Broyles is moving them into protective custody."

"That's good." I take a couple of pain killers. "At least we've slowed him down. Is there any news about Lincoln?"

"He's going to be fine, couple of broken bones, he'll be back tomorrow." Fauxlivia sounds relived.

I'm glad Lincoln is alright, events definitely spiralled out of control last night and in the end those communicators came in useful. There is no telling how long I could have been lying unconscious on the other side before someone found me. Charlie finding me was a kind of comfort as well, I miss him.

Astrid stands, "I'm going to head over to the lab. Walter wanted to know that you were alright, take it easy today. If you need anything just give me a call, OK?"

"Thanks Astrid."

Fauxlivia lets Astrid out.

I run my hand through my hair; it's still matted with blood and grime from last night. "I'm going to take a shower, are you alright here?" Maybe I will feel human after I clean up.

"Sure, you have lots of coffee, which by the way is about the only thing you have in your cupboards. I have some calls to make anyway; maybe Broyles will let me help them go through the new evidence."

* * *

><p>The shower does me some good; at least I don't feel like I still have half a train yard in my hair. Carefully I peel off the gauze above my eyebrow; the sutures are quite neat, hopefully I won't have any permanent mementos. I'm towelling off my hair when I get back through to the living room, Fauxlivia has been busy this morning. All the notes from the case are spread over my coffee table. "Going over your case notes again?"<p>

Fauxlivia has a look in her eyes, "Something was bothering me. I've been over these notes hundreds of times over the last two years; I can't believe I didn't notice it before."

"Notice what?"

"We have some strict protocols in place for using the Amber. Lincoln will be able to make sense of the data more than I can, but, I know enough. Enough to know that the explosion didn't cause an event, I'm sure this didn't meet the protocols."

"Who ordered the use of the Amber?" I wince as I lower myself onto the couch.

"The order came straight from the top; the Secretary of Defence." She is worrying her lip. "Our investigation into the company was blocked from the start; it was like everything about it just disappeared along with Fabbri."

"Cover up?"

"If it was, it means the Secretary is involved."

Somehow this does not surprise me, although the revelation seems to have come as a bit of a shock to Fauxlivia. "Did he ever tell you about how all this started? This conflict I mean?"

"Everyone knows the story, how his dying son was kidnapped by a man from the other side. Later we found out that he died, and then your side started to attack, causing the vortexes to open up. The Secretary told us you were soulless monsters that needed to be destroyed. That was the reason I was sent over here to collect the pieces of the machine."

"Do you still believe that?"

"I don't know what to believe any more."

Well that's probably a better place to be in than following orders without asking any difficult questions.

"Whatever you've been told." I explain carefully, "Our universe was never at war with yours. This all started because of a boy and the need to save that boy." I feel a shiver go up my spine when I say the words; they echo what I said to their Broyles to convince him to help me escape.

I feel now that she needs to be told what happened to Broyles. From what I have seen in the last couple of days, she genuinely doesn't know that his body ended up here, in the women's restroom inside Penn Station. His body was used as some kind of sick cosmic counterweight to aid her escape from our side.

Would she accept the truth now?

"There's something I need to tell you-" before I can continue though I am interrupted by my phone ringing, the caller ID displays the number from the lab, it's probably Walter wanting to hear that I'm alright for himself.

"Dunham."

"Olivia, its Astrid."

"Is everything ok?"

"Yes. You need to come to the lab. Walter needs to speak to you."

"Ok, we'll leave right now." She hangs up the phone without saying anything more, "That was odd."

I'm already standing up heading for my bedroom to change into work clothes.

"What was that about?"

"I have no idea. We need to get to the lab though; Walter has something."

* * *

><p>We walk down the corridor towards the lab, it still holds the same old musty smell but there is something else in the air today. Something feels off as we approach the door, there is no noise coming from inside the lab, even on his quiet days Walter always has music playing in the background.<p>

I push the door open and at first it looks like the lab is deserted.

"Astrid?" I call out as I walk down the stairs to get a good look around. Instantly my eyes catch sight of Astrid, sitting on the floor with her back leaning against the side of the lab worktop.

"Hello Agent Dunham."

I turn to face the voice.

At first I only see Walter, he is standing at the far side of the lab, his eyes are filled with panic and fear.

There is a gun pressed to his head.

My gun.

Robert Fabbri is standing behind Walter using him as a human shield.

Fauxlivia comes to stand beside me and pulls her service weapon out; her aim is unerring as she levels it just to the left of Walter's head.

"Put the gun down Fringe Divison." He spits, "Yeah, I know who _you_ are."

I have confidence in Fauxlivia that even although he is an invisible target, she would still find her mark at this angle, but I can't gamble with Walter's life like that.

"I'm not putting my gun down." Fauxlivia remains fixed.

Fabbri cocks the gun and presses the muzzle into Walter's temple, making him wince. "I won't ask again." His voice carries a dark undertone.

I turn to Fauxlivia, "Please, do as he says."

There has to be another way out of this, I don't want anyone to die today.

Fauxlivia hesitates a moment longer before lowering her weapon.

"Drop it on the floor and kick it over here. I'll have your backup weapon in you jacket too and any phones or communicators, slide them all over here."

She does as he asks.

"First smart thing you've done." Fabbri moves away from Walter's side, I can see now he has a gun in his other hand as well, it must be Astrid's.

"You too Agent Dunham, you carry a back up?"

"No, I just have my phone." I drop it onto the floor and kick it towards him.

I glance quickly over to Astrid; she appears to be unharmed although I'm guessing from the position of her arms that her hands must be restrained behind her back. She is quiet, but her eyes are wild, Fabbri must have followed her back here and forced her to call me.

"I'm sorry." She mouths.

I give a subtle shake of my head back; she is not to blame for this situation. I only wish I had been sharper this morning and picked up more from the tone in her voice during the brief phone call.

"Get your hands up where I can see them." Fabbri is calm and focused, not at all like the man I encountered in the train yard. "I thought about what you said last night, when you told me you could help me, I knew you were talking about him." He gestures with his gun to Walter.

Walter is withdrawing from the situation, already he has a vacant look behind his eyes.

"You need to put the guns down and come back with me." Fauxlivia demands, even though she is unarmed and facing down an invisible opponent with two weapons her voice carries an air of arrogance.

It doesn't go down well with Fabbri.

"Shut up! I'm not going anywhere with you! You know what? I'm fed up listening to your lies. Here-" Fabbri slides a set of handcuffs across the floor towards me "Put them on her, behind her back."

I hesitate for a moment, but Fabbri raises the second gun in my direction.

"Ok," I keep my hands up as I bend down to retrieve the handcuffs. When I turn and make eye contact with Fauxlivia she fixes me with a stony stare, "I'm sorry."

She nods, but just before she turns round I catch something in her eyes, she trusts me to get us out of this.

I'm not even sure I trust myself anymore.

"Sit down next to the other one and if you know what's good for your health you'll keep your mouth shut." Fabbri commands, Fauxlivia moves over to sit beside Astrid, she doesn't argue with him this time.

I remain standing silently where I am, I try to catch Walter's gaze but he isn't there anymore, he has disappeared inside his mind.

Fabbri places the second gun down on the top of the lab worktop. He is more confident now that Fauxlivia is out of the picture; he knows given my physical state that I'm not much of a threat to him.

"You and I are going to have a little chat."

Fabbri isn't going to be a man to reason with, his actions speak volumes.

He didn't come here to get help.

He came here to murder.

* * *

><p>AN: Uh-oh...<p> 


	12. Black and White

AN: To those of you who take the time to write comments, they are very much appreciated thank you!

Here we go then, deep breath...

* * *

><p>Fabbri studies me silently for a few moments, "How are you able to see me?"<p>

The gun is still pointing in my direction, I get the impression answering is not optional.

"I was experimented on as a child, a drug called Cortexiphan, it gives me a heightened sense of perception." I tell him the truth, "I can tell the difference between objects and people who are from the other universe, they give off a glimmer."

"No one has been able to see me since the explosion."

There's an undercurrent of sadness to this statement that I can't begin to understand. I never did find out if Fabbri had any family.

I need to keep him talking until I can figure a way out of this, "What were you working on?"

He lets out a strained laugh, "Things we shouldn't have been." He takes a couple of steps back towards Walter, "People shouldn't have this kind of power. We abused science and I paid the price. I'd rather be one of those poor bastards trapped in the Amber than have to live in a world where no one can see me."

He waves a hand in front of Walters face, and of course, Walter doesn't react.

"Why did you start killing?"

He whirls back round "Because I was angry." He seethes through clenched teeth. "They deserved it. That bitch Nina Sharp more than the others. She didn't care about people she cared about profits! I only found out later how high up it went."

I guess no one can keep secrets hidden when you're invisible.

He takes a few strides over towards Fauxlivia aiming the gun at her. "And you! Fringe Division, you're a part of it as well."

Fauxlivia shakes her head, "No, I'm not – "

"Did I say you could talk?" He waits for a few seconds before continuing, "You're a puppet!" he spits out, "Just like I was. Walter Bishop, Secretary of Defence pulls all the strings. I found out everything you know. The war, the vortexes, bet he didn't tell you that it's _his _experiments that cause most of them."

Fauxlivia looks like someone just kicked her in the gut.

"Of course he wouldn't. His name doesn't appear connected to the companies, but it's all of his money backing the research. When the lab exploded, he did his best to cover up his involvement. I had no idea he would go so far to deploy the Amber. He tried to cover his tracks but it's amazing the kinds of things you overhear when people can't see you. Then you were sent to catch me, but I wasn't going to end up on some lab table. I moved away for a while until you had stopped looking. I came back to kill him, kill all of you, but when I got back I found out about the machine. I wanted to see what would happen when it turned on. I hoped it would destroy you all, but then it did this and they were all still alive over here! I had to stop them here too!" Fabbri walks back into the centre of the lab.

"Things are different over here, you murdered innocent people." I have managed to negotiate my way around the lab table, putting myself in front of Fauxlivia and Astrid.

"NO! No one is innocent, their minds are dangerous. They could be corrupted too easily! They had the potential! Like him." He says darkly as he points the gun at Walter.

I have to get him to focus on me again. "You can't make those judgements. He isn't like yours." I take another step to try and get closer to Walter.

"STOP MOVING!" He screams, whirling the gun back in my direction.

Fabbri, Walter and I are now standing equal distances from each other, making up three points in a deadly triangle.

"It was him. Wasn't it? That experimented on you as a child."

"Yes." I reply quietly.

This conversation is not heading in the right direction.

"How is he any different then!"

"He has learnt humility since then. Situations and life experiences have changed him." I miss out the bit that our Walter is missing pieces of his brain. "Please, you have to trust us."

"Trust you? You're working with them; you're no better than they are!"

"We work with them but we are not complacent, please, we're all on the same side. I want to put a stop to this too." Fabbri stares at me intently, "I know we can fix this. It doesn't have to be like this, people don't have to die." I hope that Fabbri is still capable of reasoning.

Unfortunately, Walter chooses this moment to zone back in, "If I ran some tests, maybe I could find a way to make you visible again."

I close my eyes in dismay, I remember when I said something similar to him at the train yard; I ended up with his hands round my neck.

Fabbri erupts, turning back to aim at Walter, "You're trying to trick me! I won't be one of your sick lab experiments!"

"NO! STOP! He just wants to help you!" but Fabbri doesn't hear me.

"You're just like _him_!" He says with venom. "My only regret is that I should have done this a long time ago." He doesn't see the quirky, socially awkward Walter of our reality, he sees the ruthlessly driven Secretary of Defence from over there.

The gun goes off, he won't miss at this range and Walter won't live.

They say in traumatic events time seems to slow down, but in this case it happens literally. I watch as the muzzle flashes, then the deafening bang reaches my ears, after that everything goes strangely silent.

The bullet cuts through space creating lazy spirals in the air as it spins in its trajectory.

Walter is paralyzed with fear; his face is twisted, caught in a sob.

I turn my focus back to the bullet; the world begins to phase out and narrows down to a single point. My mind wraps around the tiny piece of lead and it slows to a stop, inches before it hits Walter. It strains against me, still eager to follow its deadly course. I remember William Bell telling me that momentum can be deferred but it must always be paid back.

That's one lesson I will never forget.

I turn the bullet around, back towards Fabbri.

Astrid lets out a scream and the interruption snaps time back into sharp focus. The silence in the room is deafening as five sets of eyes stare at the bullet frozen in mid air. The only noise comes from me; I'm gasping for breath, my chest is heaving with the effort it's taking to hold the bullet in place.

"Olivia?" Astrid's concerned voice filters through.

It's enough to break through my concentration and I remember what's happening. I let go of the bullet and watch with detachment as it hits Fabbri square in the chest.

He collapses onto the floor.

"What just happened? Was that you!" Astrid, verging on hysterics, seems to the only one who can form any words, "Olivia?"

I walk on shaky legs towards the fallen body. He's still alive and he stares up in confusion, but there's something else there too, "What are you?" He's terrified of me.

I watch the light fade from his eyes.

He's dead.

I bend down and pick the gun up, making it safe. A quick frisk through his pockets and I find the key to the handcuffs. Standing straight I'm hit with dizziness; I grab hold of the lab worktop to steady myself. I look down and notice large spots of blood blossoming on the front of my white shirt, I don't know where it's coming from. I'm just about to fall over when steadying hands grasp my shoulders.

"It's ok, Olive." Walter guides me onto one of the lab stools and he takes the gun and key from my unresponsive hands.

I find it quite ironic that he is the only one able to hold it together now.

At some point a blanket is wrapped across my shoulders and Astrid's concerned face comes into view.

"Your nose is bleeding." She's back in control now.

I can see she has a roll of paper towel in her hand. She tears a large strip off and unsure of her next move, waits to see if I will react.

I will my hand to respond and reach up to take the offered towel; I pinch the bridge of my nose trying to stem the flow.

Walter appears back in front of me, "You're in shock, but it's ok, you're going to be fine." He can't hold back any longer and he pulls me into a hug."Thank you, Olivia."

The fog starts to lift, I realise that there is no going back after tonight. I can't burry my head in the sand anymore, I'm going to have to face my abilities now.

Walter throws a white sheet over Fabbri's body, it's the first time he has had a visible presence since that tragic night in his lab. I play over the events in my mind again. Rationally, I know that it wasn't any different from pulling a trigger, but something bothers me about what I did.

There is a discussion going on around me, Fauxlivia and Astrid are speaking. Slowly, I am able to get my mind to cooperate so I can hear what's being said.

"Are you going to take him with you?" I force out.

"Hey, you're back with us." Fauxlivia comes over to me, "I've decided that he is going to stay here. I don't want the Secretary getting his hands on him; undoubtedly he would try to use this technology against your side."

I think Fauxlivia's eyes are finally open.

"Are you not concerned we'll use it against you?" At last my nose has stopped bleeding and I can stop speaking through the paper towel.

"No, I'm not." She says with conviction."I was also saying that no one else, besides us, knows what happened here tonight. I'm not going to put this in my report."

"Thanks. I appreciate that." Suddenly I'm concerned for Fauxlivia, I know what Walternate would be capable of if he discovered her betrayal, "Will he believe you if you don't come back with the body?"

"He's got no reason not to; I'll use some artistic licence in the report. Don't worry."

"I'll make the call to Broyles; we'll keep this quiet, see if we can transfer the body to Massive Dynamic." Astrid has her mobile in her hand and moves into the back office to make the call.

Fauxlivia is staring at the sheet covered body on the floor, "Have you ever done that before?"

"She disarmed a bomb with her mind once!" Walter pipes in. "I think stopping a bullet in mid fire is definitely more impressive though." Enthusiastically he continues turning to me, "Imagine what you could do if you trained your abilities!"

That's the problem.

I have imagined, and it scares the hell out of me.

* * *

><p>AN: Chuckle, a little homage to "The Matrix". This chapter was completely inspired by the "Box scene" in 3x22, oh the possibilities.<p>

And hey - just because our baddy is dead doesn't mean the story is finished... it's called "The Peter Paradox" after all. ;-)


	13. Don't Forget to Remember

AN: Hello everyone! Next chapter...

* * *

><p>Fauxlivia has been in debriefing for hours, she will be heading home afterwards. The door to the meeting room opens and Fauxlivia finally emerges.<p>

"Hey, how'd you get on?" I've been leaning against the wall in the corridor for the last hour.

"Alright, we have the reports sorted out. Walter was really helpful with that, I think we have a solid cover story for what happened to Fabbri."

"That's good. Have you got time for a coffee?"

"There's always time for a coffee."

"I, uh, I need to talk to you about something before you go."

* * *

><p>"Could you shut the door?" We've come back to my office, what I'm about to say needs to be done in private.<p>

She casts me a wary eye at the odd behaviour. "You're making me nervous."

"Sorry." My eyes dart to the case file lying on my desk.

Fauxlivia takes a seat, "What's up?"

"You need to know what you're getting into. The danger you're going to be in."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's about Broyles. Your Broyles."

"What do you know about that?" The tone she uses in her voice instantly changes the atmosphere in the room.

"He didn't go missing." Reaching out I pick the case file up. "What I am about to tell you, the Secretary wouldn't want you to find out about. If you decide to share this information with anyone from your side, make sure you can trust them. Really trust them."

"OK." She still sounds suspicious.

"You said before, that you found out what happened during the Candyman case, that I knew who I was. I wasn't the only one, Broyles figured it out too."

"What? He Knew?"

"Yes."

"And he didn't report you."

"No."

"Why not?"

"He came to the same conclusion you did."

That ends the rapid fire exchange and I watch as understanding spreads across her features.

"You saved his son. You're not monsters."

"Yeah." Finally I sit down, these are not easy memories to talk about, "That night, when I tried to escape, I was captured before I could fully cross over. I was thrown into a cell. Your mission was finished; he needed me to make the trade with you when you travelled back. He had all the answers I could give him about Cortexiphan." A shiver runs up my back, "Well all the answers he could get from me while I was still alive."

"Oh my god." She puts the mug of coffee down on my desk, now forgotten.

"I was being prepped for surgery; they were going to keep some parts for study."

She looks horrified. "What kind of parts?"

"Parts you can't live without. Internal organs, my brain – I was marked up ready for surgery when Broyles came to visit me."

"That wasn't on the logs. Why did he do that?"

"He came to thank me for saving Christopher. He said he wanted to make sure I was alright, of course I wasn't, but he knew that. I told him that if he let them kill me and send me back in pieces, there would be no hope for peace. There would be no negotiating; my side would fight back with everything they had. I asked for his help. I told him if he helped me escape, I promised I would find a way for both universes to survive."

"What did he say?"

"That he was sorry, that he couldn't help me. I don't know what happened to change his mind, but I was on the operating table when he burst in and tranqued the doctors." My hands become the focus of my attention as I relieve the horror that nearly transpired in that operating room.

"He helped you escape."

"Yeah, the tank at Liberty Island had been drained, so he helped me get to the Secretaries old lab at Harvard, he still had a tank there. I was just stepping in when the security forces turned up. Broyles showed me the tracker they had put in his arm, he told me that he was too valuable to lose." Swallowing hard, past the lump in my throat, I look up from my hands, "He held them off for as long as he could, his last words to me were that he had to believe in hope. The gun fire was the last thing I heard before I crossed over."

Fauxlivia sits speechless; she had no idea that this had happened to him. Extending my arm she takes the offered file, but she stares at me in disbelief rather than opening it.

"They killed him for helping me, but they still needed a body to balance out your crossing."

"No, no..." Her eyes widen as she puts the pieces together. She looks down at the file in her hand, gasping when she opens it and see's the crime scene photos. Her hand covers her mouth as tears form in her eyes.

"We found his body inside the women's restroom in Penn Station. I'm sorry."

"He didn't deserve this!" She is devastated, but even through the tears I can see the fire building behind her eyes.

"I know. He was a good man." A tear runs down my own face as I remember back to the time I spent with him, taking a few moments to compose myself, "Do you understand now how much danger you'll be in if the Secretary suspects your loyalty?"

Fauxlivia wipes at her face with the back of her hand, "You've probably noticed, I'm quite a good liar."

"You don't say."

Fauxlivia leans back in the chair and stares up at the ceiling shaking her head, "When Broyles disappeared we all got them." She rolls up the sleeve on her left arm, "They told us it was for our safety in case we were kidnapped." She brushes her fingers over the raised bump on her wrist, but from the look she has on her face she wants to claw it out from under her skin right now, "He will pay for this, I promise."

"You'll have to keep him close for the time being. I suspect that this truce means nothing to him, especially now that we know he has private companies working on his scientific projects, companies that are not controlled by your government. He could still be trying to find a way to destroy us."

Fauxlivia nods, she knows what's at stake here.

"He can't know that we've settled our differences. The meeting room at the bridge is closely monitored; I don't want him to suspect that things have changed between us."

"Yeah, don't worry about that you're still a pain the ass."

A laugh escapes me, "And you're still a bitch."

Fauxlivia smiles, but her expression turns serious when she speaks, "I won't forget this Olivia. You've given me closure. Without you I would never have found out the truth. I understand why Broyles trusted you and I'm going to help you keep your promise to him."

Fauxlivia closes the case file and hands it back to me, she stands up to leave, "Oh, before I go. I had Lincoln check something out for me. That night you crossed over in the train yard?"

"Yeah?"

"However you did it, it was undetectable. You didn't so much as cause a blip on our sensors. I thought that you might want to know that." She says with a knowing smile.

That's interesting; I could come and go from the other side without them detecting that I was there. "Thanks for telling me."

"I'll see you around Agent Dunham."

* * *

><p>Not again.<p>

The sound of static from a radio is blasting out of Walters' lab.

Pushing the door open I try and call out above the noise, "Walter! I thought we talked about this?"

He is sitting three feet away from the speakers scribbling down notes into his note book. I have no idea how he can concentrate with this noise blaring.

"HEY! WALTER!"

A jolt runs up my spine and I'm rooted to the spot, pins and needles crawl up the back of my head. The static grows louder until it's roaring in my ears; it's deafening.

Then, gradually I start to differentiate something out of the cacophony.

It's a man's voice.

"_Olivia. It's me." _The voice echoes and reverberates through my mind._ "Please remember!"_

"Stop, please." My head starts to pound.

"_You gotta help me!" _

"Shut up, leave me alone!" Involuntary my hands come up and I press them hard against my ears to shut him out but it doesn't make a difference. I feel like my head is going to explode.

"_You have to get me out of here Olivia!"_

He won't stop. I can't breathe; the room is starting to spin. "Just shut up! SHUT UP!"

"_OLIVIA!" _He screams in anguish and it tears through my mind, the pain is unbelievable.

I scream until my throat is raw and the lab explodes in a shower of sparks around me.

I'm on my hands and knees trying to get my breath back. Tears stream down my face as I look up to survey the damage. There is debris everywhere; the computers on the worktops are smoking.

"Is it safe to come out now?" Walter is huddled underneath the table wrapped in a fire blanket.

All the energy has been sucked out of me; I don't even have the power in my arms to stay upright anymore. Succumbing to exhaustion, I sink down onto the floor and roll over onto my back. My eyes fix on the broken light swinging above my head.

What the hell did I just do?

* * *

><p>"Oh my god! Walter! Olivia!" Astrid calls out from the lab.<p>

"We're through here!"

I'm huddled on Walter's couch, I can't stop shaking. Not only have I smashed every piece of glass in the lab, I have also fried some rather expensive pieces equipment.

"Walter what the hell happened through there?"

Walter is calm when he replies, "A release of telekinetic energy, a rather large one at that. We're ok."

"Telekinetic energy from where?" Astrid searches for answers as she looks Walter and I over.

"Oh, not from where, from whom." Walter points a finger in my direction.

Astrid stares at me with wide eyes then turns to Walter in disbelief, "Olivia did this?"

"She got a bit upset."

"A bit? Walter the computers? Your lab equipment?"

"Destroyed, yes, but we're very lucky it could have been much worse. I thought at first she was going to set the lab on fire. We may want to buy some more fire blankets and extinguishers, just in case." He lowers his voice, "It's probably best if we don't upset her again."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." My teeth are clenched together; it's the only thing I can do to keep them from chattering.

"I know you didn't. It's ok." Walter sits down beside me and puts a comforting hand on my shoulder, "What's going on Olivia? Who were you talking to?"

"I've been hearing a voice, seeing things, things that aren't real." It's blurted out a bit blunter than I would have liked and it doesn't do anything to make me sound any less crazy.

"Oh my..."

Walter and Astrid share a concerned look.

"I can't sleep anymore, I don't eat. His voice, he screams in my head." I say through gritted teeth.

"Whose voice?" Walter leans closer giving me support.

"I don't know. I feel like I've forgotten something, something really important. It's tearing me up inside." Raking my hands through my hair taking a few steadying breaths, "I went to a new place when I crossed over at the train yard. I heard him there too."

"What do you mean?"

"It was dark, a void. It felt like a mid way point before I woke up on the other side." There's a small sense of relief at finally being able to tell someone about the experience. "What does it all mean?"

"I'm not sure."

"I'm out of control Walter, my abilities; they are just underneath the surface. I can't turn them off. I'm losing my mind."

"Olivia, I know what it feels like to have a mind that seems alien to you." He lays his hand over mine, "I've come to embrace those parts of my mind that are, peculiar and broken. I understand now that's what makes my mind _special_..."

There's a white hot stab of pain behind my eyes as he talks, then a blinding flash and we're no longer having this conversation on his couch. We're sitting at a table; the typewriter is in front of me.

"...I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You have no idea how extraordinary you are..."

Oh god, it hurts.

I don't hear what he says next, but there's another flash and we're back on his couch.

Scrambling up onto my feet I stumble for the door.

"Olivia?" Astrid asks with concern.

"I need to go." My legs feel like they are made of rubber, "I'm sorry. I...I'm sorry."

"Olivia!" Astrid calls out after me but I don't stop.

Jumping into my SUV I start driving, I feel an overwhelming urgency to just get away and be by myself for a while.

* * *

><p><em>Parallel Universe.<em>

* * *

><p>Walter Bishop, Secretary of Defence sits studying a pile of reports on his desk.<p>

His intercom flashes, "Agent Dunham is here to see you, sir."

"Send her through."

Fauxlivia's confident strides can be heard before the double doors swing open. "You wanted to see me sir?"

"Yes, take a seat. I read your report from the Fabbri case, I'm glad that we have been able to resolve this, although the outcome was less than satisfactory."

Fauxlivia takes a seat in front of the Secretary's desk. "Yes sir, I know, we did our best, but we couldn't locate the body once he died. Their Walter theorised it may have had something to do with subatomic decay, once Fabbri died, there wasn't enough energy left to sustain the body."

"That's a fair hypothesis." He removes his glasses, "Never the less, good work Agent Dunham."

"Thank you, sir." Fauxlivia stands sensing that this meeting is over.

"Before you go, how is their Olivia Dunham doing?"

She turns around towards the Secretary, her expression devoid of emotion, "It worked."

"Excellent."

* * *

><p>AN: Smiles innocently... revenge of the epilogue.<p>

Oh and for those of you who are wondering where Walter's line came from, it's from 3x21 "The Last Sam Weiss".


	14. No Strings Attached

AN: Hello everybody! Tad late with the upload, sorry guys, blame the time of year. (See also a "weather bomb" with hurricane force winds, flying debris and a black eye... yeah last couple of weeks have been interesting!)

Coffinwood: Yes it was a very dirty trick; I'll admit that, chuckle! That whole flip came to me as a bit of a surprise one night and I just couldn't let it go (Fauxlivia writes herself sometimes). All will be explained eventually...

* * *

><p><em>The rising sun peaks in between the blinds, throwing rectangular beams of light across my bedroom. It's a peaceful morning; the silence is only broken by the steady deep breathing of the person who is lying behind me; his warm breath tickles my neck when he exhales. His arm is draped around my waist as he hugs me close.<br>_

_I feel safe._

_He lets out a contented sigh as he wakes up. "Morning." _

_I desperately want to see the face of the man who I am sharing my bed with, but I'm afraid if I move it's going to ruin this perfect moment and I'll never be able to get it back. Risking it I turn in his arms; we're so close that our noses are pressed together and words that I don't remember escape my mouth, "I could get used to this." I still can't see his face and I realise that I am only an observer in this dream. "This is my favourite time of day, when the world is full of promise." _

_I can feel him smiling._

_He kisses me gently on the lips and when he pulls back his features are masked in shadow, silhouetted from the light coming in through the blinds. "I miss you." He whispers, the words heavy with emotion._

_I feel an ache building in my chest in response, "I miss you too." _

_And it's the truth; I've never felt like this about anyone before, even although I don't know who he is._

_The spell is broken when a phone starts ringing and everything disappears, instantly I'm plunged into the darkness of the void, I try calling out to him but no noise escapes my lips._

_I'm stuck in a soundless scream._

I sit up in bed with a start and the scream pushes its way past my vocal cords and erupts from my mouth. I'm soaked in sweat and my hair is plastered to my head, I turn to the source of the noise, it's my phone but all I can do is stare at it in detachment.

It rings out.

I look around my bedroom, I'm alone and the sun hasn't even come up yet. My eyes go blurry as tears spill over, partly out of the perceived sense of loss the dream has evoked and partly out of frustration for not being able to remember who the man is.

My tears turn to sobs.

These are not just dreams or hallucinations; these are my memories, memories of a life that has somehow been stolen from me.

* * *

><p>The missed call was from Walter, he wants to see us at the lab urgently, all of us, including Broyles.<p>

The lab has been tidied up a bit since yesterday; unpacked boxes containing some replacement equipment is stacked round the room.

"I've been thinking about what you said." Walter is dragging a chalk board out and I know he is going to try and explain his theory in a way that you don't need an IQ of 190 to understand.

The door opens and a flustered looking Astrid comes in with a bag of groceries; it looks like she has been sent on one of Walters errands again. "Why do you need this stuff again Walter?"

"You're back! Excellent timing – did you get what I asked for?"

"Two cartons of orange juice, strawberry liquorice, a loaf of bread and two packets of beef jerky. How is this going to explain your theory?"

"It's not, I'm hungry." Walter replies taking the beef jerky out.

Astrid rolls her eyes.

"Now you're here, take a seat and listen to this." Walter turns to his old record player, and moves the needle into place. It's a classical piece of music. I've heard Walter play this before in the lab, it's one of his favourites. "What do you hear?"

"Mozart?" I stab at a guess; classical music is not one of my strong areas.

"It's Bach," He dismisses, "but no, listen to the music, what's playing?"

"A cello?" Astrid supplies.

"Yes! And how does it create sound?"

"Vibrations."

"Very good." He turns the music off, "Each string vibrates at a different frequency which gives us the variety of notes. It has been theorised that the very structure of our universe works in the same way. These strings vibrate, creating all of the different subatomic particles, which in turn leads to the formation of, well, everything. It's called -" Walter turns to the blackboard and writes the words on as he says them "-String Theory." He turns back round to face us. "It's a wonderful theory, not all of it can be confirmed at the moment, however this theory, does predict the existence of multiple universes, or a multiverse and that part," He says with triumph, "we know is correct!"

"Ok, I'm with you so far." Astrid and Broyles nod in agreement but I'm sensing there is more to come.

"The theory hypothesises that our entire universe exists on a thin membrane. Astrid, the loaf of bread, please."

Astrid gets the bread from the bag and passes it to Walter, "You still hungry?"

"No, this is for demonstration purposes." He says it like it should be obvious; he takes the first slice out. "This is the membrane we exist on." He holds the slice on its end against the table, "and this -" out comes a second slice, "Is the alternate universe." He sits it together, parallel with the first piece, as they would sit together normally in a loaf of bread. "This is a basic representation as technically our universes exist together, intertwined..." He pauses for a moment gathering the rest of his thoughts together, "Yes so anyway, even so it is an impossible barrier to cross, unless of course you build a machine to punch a hole through or..."

"You're like me." I finish for him.

Walter nods, "I believe you are able to naturally "tune in" to their side, somehow you are able to alter your harmonics at a subatomic level, to allow you to pass through. I'm also thinking that since we have not seen any other parallel universes, it leads me to hypothesise that theirs must be the closest universe to us in the line. To move further-" Another piece of bread comes out and is positioned in line, "Would require you to make an even bigger adjustment to your harmonics. Maybe this would just require more practice or require too much energy for one person."

There is no way I want to go to _another_ alternate universe. We narrowly averted war and complete destruction with our immediate neighbours. "Ok, so assuming I can't go there," I say, pointing at the third piece of bread, "Where did I go that night in the train yard?"

"Excellent question and the answer is here." Walter points down at the bread, "The space in between the two slices – or to remove the analogy – the subatomic space between the two membranes. Nothing exists there that our minds can comprehend. No dimensions, no time, it would be a void of nothing. Just like you described."

"But there wasn't nothing, I heard a man speaking to me, I felt a presence, someone else was there."

"Maybe it was God!" Walter says with alarm.

I shake my head, "I don't think so. He knew me, his voice; he's the man I have the flashes and dreams about. He said "I know you don't remember me, but you will.""

Walter stays quiet and it's Astrid that breaks the silence, "Olivia, what else are you thinking? I know you and something is bothering you, big time."

Three sets of eyes turn to me, I have to tell them the scale of the situation, "I think our reality has been altered, artificially, this whole thing," I gesture vaguely around the lab, "It's all wrong, like the world has been forced somehow, it doesn't feel real. I don't feel real anymore."

Walter sits down, curious, "When did these episodes start?"

"Specifically? The night the doomsday machine turned on."

That revelation stuns the room, the weight of the implication hangs heavy in the air.

"You think the machine did more than create the bridge? Could it have done that?" Broyles asks directing the question to Walter.

"It's possible it could have done something to alter the timeline either deliberately or by accident. It may account for why it did not work as we expected it would. It should have destroyed us. Olivia, if such a thing has happened, it would stand to reason that given your unique abilities you would be the only one of us capable of detecting the change."

That's comforting on some level, at least I know for sure that I'm not going mad, but it still leaves me with a problem. "I think this man, the one that's trapped. He is the key to all this. I want to go back and get him out."

"What if he's in there for a reason?" Astrid asks, "What if that's the only thing stopping the machine from destroying us?"

"Olivia, I think the dreams and flashes might be memories, or at least you are perceiving events that have not happened in our reality. You have the answers to who this man is already you just can't remember." Walter hits the nail on the head.

I know what's coming and so do Walter and Astrid. We all turn to glance at the sensory deprivation tank.

"We could try make you remember." Walter proposes.

"That's really dangerous Walter, remember the last time we put Olivia in the tank, you asked for a Bible!" Astrid is alarmed as she sees the plan forming.

"Hmm, your right, a defibrillator would be of more use this time."

I close my eyes, as the gravity of the situation hits me. When I open them Broyles is looking at me questioningly and I know I am asking a lot from the people in this room. These people who are not only work colleagues; they are also my friends, my family.

"Olivia, are you sure about this?" Broyles fixes me with a stare.

"I want to do this. I need to, this is too important. I can't go on living in this lie." The real meaning behind that statement is not lost on Broyles, looking around the damage in the lab it's obvious I'm not going to be able to function as an FBI agent until this is sorted out.

Walter nods, "Ok, if you're sure, I am going to need some supplies."

"Oh my god, you two are crazy!" Astrid exclaims, as always the voice of reason.

Broyles is on board however, "What do you need?"

"Well, we have learnt some things in the last few years, but this is not going to be easy." Walter says, thinking things through, "Do you remember what happened when you received the flood of memories from your first trip to the alternate universe? From your first meeting with Belly?"

How could I forget, I convulsed on the floor for ten minutes before Walter delivered a syringe worth of adrenaline into my heart, "Seizures." I offer and Astrid pales, shaking her head.

"Now, that was a memory of an event that lasted no more than an hour. I can only imagine what's going to happen if we try to open your mind up to memories that lasted an entire lifetime."

He's right; this isn't going to be easy.

"I'll make a list Agent Broyles, we're also going to need quite a few drugs and I wasn't joking about the defibrillator." He adds, scribbling down onto a pad before handing the list to Broyles.

"You know most of these drugs are illegal?"

Walter smiles, "I find those are the best kind."

"I'll get it all Doctor Bishop, but, I want to be here when you do this."

It's done, there's no going back now.

Tomorrow one way or another, we're going to change our lives forever.

* * *

><p>AN: As always many thanks for reading. If you can spare a few seconds, drop a comment in.<p>

Hoping to get another chapter up next week at some point...

Merry Christmas everyone! X


	15. Down The Rabbit Hole

AN: Happy New Year! Here's to 2012! Hope everyone had a great Christmas and New Year.

Now that the festive season is over with for another year, I can get some new chapters up!

Ok, so first off, hopefully this chapter makes as much sense as it's supposed to. Most of this chapter and the next will be in italics denoting to the fact that these events are happening inside Olivia's mind.

Yes that's right, we are all going on a trip...

**Warnings: Explicit drug use. If you're old enough to be watching Fringe then it doesn't contain anything more graphic that you would find in an episode anyway.**

* * *

><p>The lab is a hive of activity as agents bring in stacks of equipment and boxes, while Walter and Astrid start firing up the new computers.<p>

"We'll use the tank to help guide you to the point where you can pick up the trail of memories. You will need to look for a sign." Walter says as walks past me and plugs in another cable into the side of the tank.

I'm distracted as Broyles empties one of the boxes onto the work tops and I'm slightly nervous when I see the quantity of drips and surgical tubing Walter has asked for. "A sign? Like what?"

"I don't know, but it will be obvious when you see it."

"What happens then?"

"I expect that's when you will receive a flood of memories. Considering the amount of information you could receive, it will no doubt trigger a seizure like last time."

"And that's when we come in?" Broyles asks, this will be the first time he has been here when we've used the tank.

"Yes, we'll have to get Olivia out the tank quickly and begin treatment."

Along with the drips there are various small vials of anti-seizure medication, I think Walter has all the bases covered. "How long will I get?"

"No more than thirty minutes."

"Will that be enough time for me to remember?"

"It will have to be. We must bring you out of the seizures within that time or you risk serious brain damage. That is why we have to start treatment immediately. I don't know how long it will take for you to respond to the drugs."

"Olivia?" Astrid is shaking her head, she looks like she is about to throw up.

"I'm sorry, I know I'm asking a lot, whatever happens this was my decision. I need to do this."

"We should start getting you ready." Walter pats me on the shoulder as he walks back to the computers.

* * *

><p>I'm sitting on a chair in my underwear with a blanket around my shoulders watching Broyles tip the last bag of salt into the tank.<p>

"There that should hold." Astrid finishes covering the IV lines in the backs of my hands with surgical tape.

They are going to run the IV lines in to the tank, Walter explained that it might take a while to get the right balance of hallucinogenic's before I can access the part of my mind that contains the memories.

My heart rate and brain waves are already being monitored; the numbers on the screen have been steadily rising as I watch the tank being prepared. I can look calm on the outside but there is no fooling the computers. Walter pushes a syringe worth of clear liquid into the IV in my right hand.

"Just a mild sedative, to keep you calm."

"I could use one myself." Astrid mutters under her breath.

Instantly I begin to feel more relaxed, if not slightly disconnected from myself and the situation around me takes on a surreal quality.

"Ok, are you ready?" Walter has the electromagnetic probe in his hand. He pushes my head forward so my chin rests against my chest, the probe has to go in the back of my neck, but thankfully Walter had the presence of mind to use a local anaesthetic first. I still gasp when he presses it in; Astrid holds my shoulders steady to stop me folding double from the sensation.

"There, it's in, we're all set."

Astrid helps me to stand and together with Broyles' help we negotiate our way to the tank while being mindful of all the wires and tubes now attached to me.

Walter spins on his heel, "WAIT!"

"What!" The three of us chorus and if it wasn't such a serious situation I probably would have laughed.

He rushes back to my side. "I almost forgot." Walter digs his hand deep into his lab coat and pulls a vial from the pocket; it's a blue liquid. "You'll need this."

"What is it?" It doesn't look like anything I have seen before; the solution has an ultraviolet glow to it.

Walter fills a syringe. "It's my own special blend of LSD."

Astrid's eyes widen, "Is that safe!"

"Of course!" Walter turns to the I.V and before we can voice any more objections he's pushed the drug into the line, "I've been saving this for a special occasion. You're very lucky Olivia." He says with a hint of reverence.

"How'd you figure that?"

"It's going to give you the most amazing trip. I haven't even had a chance to try it myself yet."

I think we are all giving Walter a prolonged blank stare; looking down I watch the blue liquid disappearing into the back of my hand.

"Oh god." Astrid looks desperately into my eyes, silently pleading with me that it's still not too late to back out of this madness.

"Remember, you must listen to my voice, I will try and guide you to the start of the memory thread."

"I understand."

I step into the tank with Astrid and Broyles' help. The water is body temperature but I can't help the shudder that runs through me.

Walter's face is the last one I see before the doors shut. "Good luck."

I'm plunged into darkness, I try to stay calm as something warm goes into the back of my left hand and I feel like I'm floating away.

"Olivia, can you hear me?" Walters' detached voice comes through the speakers inside the tank.

"Yes."

"I'm going to count down from five, start to feel yourself drifting away, relaxing; no one can hurt you here. Five, four, three, two, one. What do you see?"

"Nothing. Just black." My words are slightly slurry and I'm not sure if I spoke out loud or it was in my mind.

"Ok, hold on." The tingling in the back of my neck increases, "What about now?"

_A red glow starts to form at the edge of my vision, and I get the distinct feeling now that I am no longer floating. I'm lying on my side, my cheek is pressed against something rough, opening my eyes I see that I'm lying on sand. The light here is alien; a red ominous glow seems to saturate everything around me. Sitting up, I get a better view of my surroundings, "I'm in a desert."_

"Good, that's good, now can you move around, tell me what you see?"

_I turn in a slow circle but there is nothing but the desert in every direction. The land is completely flat, no landmarks except for the line on the horizon. A steady breeze whips at the sand around my feet; disconcertingly there is no noise here._

_I look up at the sky and gasp._

"Olivia, tell me what you see."

_Dark clouds roll across the sky at impossible speeds. I stare up at them mesmerized,_ _"I feel like I'm on another planet." And I suppose with the amount of drugs flowing into my body, that's not too big a stretch of the imagination. "The clouds are racing."_

"Can you see anything else in the distance? Any landmarks?"

_I turn around searching again and this time my eyes fix on an object casting a shadow in the sand. "There's something sticking up, a rock maybe."_

"Move over to it, can you tell what it is?"

_I take cautious steps over to the object while trying hard not to focus on the sky; the billowing clouds overhead are giving me a sense of vertigo. As I get closer I realise it's not a rock at all. "It's a gravestone."_

"What does it say?"

_I brush my hand across the face of the stone, wiping away the loose sand. "Nothing, it's been worn away. Wait-" There is something buried in front, its shiny edge glistens through the sand. I dig my fingers down and pull it out. "I've found a coin."_

"Say again?"

"_It's a coin."_

"What kind?"

_There's an edge to Walters' voice and I wonder what the significance is of this find, "A liberty half dollar." It feels warm in the palm of my hand, almost like it's alive somehow. I take another look around, there are a series of depressions in the sand, they have nearly been eroded by the wind, but from this angle I can see them leading away into the distance. "Walter? Are you there?" I don't get a reply, since there is nothing else here to see I start following the trail. There's a thunderous boom overhead that makes me crouch, taking a few steadying breaths I continue to follow the footprints. The coin begins to emit a high pitched sound; I must be heading in the right direction. "Walter? Can you hear me?"_

_A glint catches my eye as I walk further; something is catching the light ahead of me. It looks like a door._

"Olivia?"

_Finally, "Where did you go?"_

"I'm sorry, it's ok now. Where are you now?"

"_I'm standing in front of a door." _

"That's very literal of you, whatever happened to a good metaphor?"

"_What should I do?"_

"Open it, step through."

_Pushing open the door reveals the interior of a bar. There is something very familiar about it, I'm sure I've been in this Irish bar before. The illusion of normality ends there, the bar doesn't have a ceiling and above me the clouds still speed across the sky._

_The place is deserted; one figure sits at the bar. The bar tender gives me a nod as I walk closer and I take a seat on the stool next to the lone patron. He doesn't look up from his drink when he speaks, but for the first time I get to put a face to the man who has been haunting me for the last few weeks._

"_One for the lady." His voice is flat, almost disinterested._

"_Whatever he's having." I tell the bar tender and he pours me a double whisky._

_The man beside me has a boyish charm to his features, dark hair and eyes; it looks like he has a couple of day's worth of stubble on his face. He is so familiar to me, but his true identity remains a mystery. "Who are you?"_

"_I'm a drug induced figment of your subconscious." Finally he looks up from his drink and turns towards me. _

"_No that's not what I meant. Who do you represent in reality?"_

"_I know what you meant. Isn't that what you came here to find out?" _

_He's also a bit of a wise-guy. "Are you this annoying in real life?"_

_He lets out a laugh, smiling, "Absolutely." He switches his attention to the bar tender, "Hit me."_

_I study his features again, but his name skirts around the back of my brain, I know if I think hard enough I'll remember._

"_Stop staring at me, you're making me blush."_

"_Sorry." I switch tactics, staring at him is getting me nowhere at the moment. "Where did we first meet?"_

"_Iraq."_

_The answer is so left field it puts me on the back foot with my questioning, "What was I doing in Iraq?"_

"_This is your brain talking, if you don't know then I sure as hell don't."_

"_Good point." Looks like I am only going to get so far with this, obviously I've still not found the trigger for my memories yet._

"_You found my coin." He says pointing to my hand._

"_Uh, yeah, here." He takes it in his hand and rolls the coin over his knuckles before making it disappear. A tingle runs up my spine and a bolt of lightning cuts across the sky. I remember the first time I saw him do that, it was in Walters' lab._

_He opens his palm up and reveals the coin. "It's yours now. Keep it."_

"_Why don't I remember you?"_

"_You know the answer to that already, the machine altered the timeline. Everyone else accepted the change, but you Olivia, are uniquely gifted to pick up the difference. Plus you have an attachment to me that no one else does."_

"_What are you talking about?"_

"_Oh come on! That dream you had, I was in your bed!"_

"_So we were together?"_

"_Yup. You know, if you do this, there will be no going back?"_

"_I know that. Please tell me who you are." _

"_I can't do that, because I don't know." He leans forward and points down the end of the bar. "But she does."_

_I swivel round in the stool to see what he is pointing at. At the far end of the bar stands one intrusive looking full size antique mirror, it definitely wasn't there when I came into the bar. I turn back to face him, "Are you serious?"_

"_Not all the time, but this time, yes I am serious."_

"_Ok..." I slide of the stool, when in Rome._

"_Olivia." He reaches out and grasps my hand, "you forgot this." He gives me the coin back, "This is important, keep it with you."_

"_I will. Thanks."_

"_We will see each other again."_

_I stare into his eyes and I realise that he hasn't let go of my hand yet._

"What's happening?" Walter's voice cuts through and interrupts the moment.

_He smiles one last time before letting go, instantly I miss the warmth that the small of amount of contact gave me, "I'm going to talk to a mirror apparently."_

"That's more like it!"

_My heart starts to pound in my chest as I walk over the mirror, I have an enormous sense of trepidation building inside me as I recall all the nightmares involving mirrors I've had in the past few weeks. There is a blinding flash and the bar and its occupants vanish, the clouds evaporate overhead exposing the black starless sky above me. I step fully up to the mirror, but my reflection is distorted in its surface. The wind starts to pick up, whipping at my hair and blowing sand into my eyes. I stare into the mirror and watch in horror as my reflection takes on a life of its own. _

_Underneath my feet the ground starts to shake but I remain rooted to the spot as an arm reaches out through the glass, extending a hand towards me._

"_Olivia..." She whispers my name._

_My nightmares have come to life._

_I pause for a moment before mimicking the actions, letting her hand grip mine. A lightning storm erupts overhead; red bolts split the black sky, instantly an electric bolt shoots up my spine. I'm breathing heavily as the first sets of spasms begin to rack through my body, my back arches and the hand tightens around mine to keep me from falling backwards._

_As the lightning strobes the hand tugs me towards the mirror. I try to resist but it's no use, in one jerk I'm pulled forwards, crashing through the mirror to the other side._

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><p>AN: I know I'm mean splitting the chapter here, but it's a natural end.<p>

Next chapter is all ready to go... hint hint...

Now, what's that guy called again? I think it starts with a P...


	16. Through The Looking Glass

AN: Hahahaa, Frost Deejin and CoffinWood, your wish is my command...

**Warnings: It's an M for a reason guys, mentions of domestic violence, child abuse, drug use... you get the idea.**

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><p><em>Unfortunately one of my earliest memories of my childhood is not a pleasant one; I'm actually disappointed that the events of this night still happened. My stepfather is shouting in an alcohol fuelled rage while I can just make out the quiet subdued sobs of my Mom. This is the only place I felt safe when the screaming started, curled up under the coats in the cupboard beneath the stairs.<em>

_At this point in time, I am five years old._

_There is a sound of a slap and it all goes quiet in the living room. I hug my legs tighter to my chest and lower my head onto the tops of my knees, I always thought that one day I might be able to make myself small enough that I would disappear. _

_Unfortunately it doesn't happen today._

_Loud heavy footsteps travel down the hall towards my hiding place._

"_I know you're in there." The steps stop at the door, "Come out of there!"_

_The door swings open and his tall frame is silhouetted in the doorway. He reaches in and wraps his hand around the top of my arm, pulling me from the cupboard. I had forgotten what it felt like to be this small; I'm terrified as he pulls me into the living room. My Mom is six months pregnant with Rachel, but it didn't stop my stepfather from hitting her. She is still crying silently as she holds her hand to the side of her face._

_I try really hard to remember my real Dad but I was too young to know him before he died. One thing I do know, he would never have made my Mom cry. With the innocence of a five year old the words slip out before I learnt the best thing to have done in this situation was to have stayed quiet. "I wish my Daddy was here."_

_The sharp blow of the back of his hand across my face startles me, I never saw it coming. This was the first time he ever hit me and it wouldn't be the last._

_Most of my childhood passes by in a blur, my mind has still blocked these memories from me, whether it was the experiments I was subjected to at the day care centre at the hands of Walter or the abuse I suffered at home I don't know._

_Certain events stand out from the fog however. The night I shot my stepfather and the relief I felt when he finally left our lives. The day I got my letter of acceptance into UNC, my graduation ceremony, my first day as a Marine Corps special investigator and Rachel's wedding day. Memories and feelings race through my head, from the overwhelming grief when Mom died to the joy when Rachel told me she was pregnant._

_Random moments of my life flash through my mind so quick I don't have time to focus on them, but I remember my first week at the bureau, the sting operation when I froze in the parking garage and Charlie telling me I was going to be fine. The first time I met John Scott and our early cases together, everything from the first case we solved to the night we started our affair. Most of my life up until this point seems to be almost identical to the memories I had, but it's the events during the flight 627 case that start to turn my world upside down. _

_We needed help with our investigation, I flew out to Iraq to meet with a man, but I can't remember why he was so relevant to the case. He joined the team along with Walter. I still don't have enough to put the pieces of the puzzle together._

_Knowing I could be pulled from this trip down memory lane at any time, I latch onto the man's face and try to trigger all the memories associated with him. His voice rings clear in my head and I remember snippets of conversations we had._

"_I just want you to know, you're not alone here...Seriously? That's fantastic, women never have card tricks...You're ok, you're gonna be fine."_

_Suddenly I'm pulled from my thoughts and I find myself being thrown onto the hood of a car. His face is contorted in anger, he looks sick. _

_His hands wrap around my throat. "You locked me in here! You betrayed me!" _

_Why is he so angry with me? We continue to struggle as he tries to get my gun out my right hand. We spin round throwing me into a wall, the gun goes off and it jolts me into a new memory._

_We're standing in an apartment I don't recognise, but there is an overwhelming urgency to this situation."You don't belong here." _

"_No I don't belong here. But I don't belong there either." He looks sad, abandoned. _

_I just want to hold him, but I resist the urge to pull him into my arms. "Yes you do. I have thought of a hundred reasons, why you should come back. To fight the shape shifters, to take care of Walter, to save the world, but in the end, you have to come back because you belong with me." _

_He leans over to kiss me, but I'm snapped out of it before our lips touch._

_We're sitting outside now, I've been crying, I try to get my emotions in check when I speak, but I feel sick inside. "When I was over there I thought about you, you were just a figment of my imagination, but I held on to you and that wasn't reasonable, it wasn't logical, but I did it. So why didn't you? She wasn't me." I can't fathom the look on his face because I don't understand the context of this memory; he looks ashamed, guilty even. "Now she's everywhere. She's in my house, my job...my bed, and I don't want to wear my clothes anymore, and I don't want to live in my apartment, and I don't want to be with you. She's taken everything." I remember now, what Fauxlivia did in this version of events, how she slept with him. _

_I wish I hadn't remembered this. _

_A rage wells up inside me and although this didn't actually happen in my reality, I have an irrational urge when I get back to claw her eyes out anyway. _

_There's a blinding flash and I see the doomsday machine activating when he steps into the room with it for the first time and how we averted the first vortex appearing on our side._

_The scene changes again and we're inside, standing in a kitchen, I've been in here quite a few times, usually I'm turning the stove off. _

_It's Walter's kitchen._

"_I want what you want." _

"_What do you think we should do about that?" He smiles coyly._

_I take his hand and lead him upstairs. _

_I remember our first time together, but the happiness doesn't last long._

_My last memory is of us standing in the bridge room with the doomsday machine. I know that we don't have any choice but to do what we are about to do, but I've never been so absolutely terrified of loosing someone before._

_He smiles trying to lighten the mood as he takes my hand and leads me closer to the machine, "Don't say I never took you anywhere."_

_We have our last kiss goodbye then he turns and walks over to the machine._

_My heart aches in my chest, "...I love you."_

_The air is sucked out from the room and I'm falling backwards.  
><em>

_When I open my eyes, I find myself lying on my back staring up at a night's sky. There is a peaceful, almost tranquil quality to the situation, the world is on hold. The only interruption to the stillness is the shallow rising and falling of my chest, puffs of air from my mouth float up into the dark cold sky. There are a million stars above me, twinkling like diamonds. I've never seen the stars so clearly before._

_Where is this?_

_I curl my hands into the ground and feel the unmistakable chill and wetness of snow slipping between my fingers. I don't remember this, but somewhere in the back of mind I know why._

_It's because this event hasn't happened to me yet._

_I shiver from the cold seeping in from the snow underneath my back; it's in direct contrast to the warm feeling spreading over the front of my t-shirt. It's coming from the steady flow of blood from a wound in my chest, just to the right of my heart. I cough as the cold air catches in my throat, there's a tell tale taste of metallic copper in my mouth now and I know I'm bleeding internally; my lungs are filling with blood. I'm not in any pain, and rationally I know I should be, perhaps it's from the effects of the cold or the shock I'm slipping into._

_An undeniable truth is clear to me in this moment._

_I am dying._

_With that clarity all of the new memories flow unhindered into my mind._

_I remember everything._

_A soft whisper escapes my lips; it's so quiet it's barely audible even to my own ears. "Peter."_

_A huge jolt runs through my body, involuntary my head jerks back and my back arches off the ground. Burning pain spreads across my chest, my lungs are on fire. A wet choking cough gurgles more blood into the back of my throat. I try desperately to breathe through the pain, but it's getting more and more difficult. My mind is starting to get foggy._

_Around me, a bright beam of light illuminates the ground. I can just make out the sound of rotor blades spinning, it's a helicopter._

_I might be saved after all._

_One final jolt runs through me and throws the world into darkness._

"She's back!"

I can't get enough air.

Voices and background noise swirl around me in an indistinguishable racket. Someone is touching my head; sluggishly I reason that they are putting an oxygen mask over my face. Their hands remain on either side of my face in an attempt to comfort me. I'm shaking uncontrollably as another set of hands pull a blanket up over my chest.

"Can you hear me?"

"Ugh, dark..." Why is it so dark here? I can't see an inch in front of my face. The electronic beeping noises grow louder and faster, my chest is burning. The voice is still talking to me but I can't hear the words anymore. Something tugs on the back of my hand, I try to push it away but I can't move.

I'm paralysed; I'm not in my own body.

An insane thought flits through my head that perhaps I have been abducted by aliens, was I not on an alien planet a few minutes ago? An alien planet with an Irish bar, oh god I don't know what's going on.

The voice becomes more insistent and I can't ignore it anymore, "Can you open your eyes?"

Well that would explain the darkness, slowly my eyelids lift, battling the lead weight that seems to be holding them shut. Instantly a stab of light assaults me and I screw my eyes shut to avoid the pain.

"Come on, open your eyes, you can do it."

I try again and the light isn't quite as severe this time, a dark silhouette swims across my vision and I struggle to focus, my eyes are instead drawn to the light in the ceiling. It's throwing off coloured circles of light that seem to hover around the figures head.

Definitely aliens.

"Try and focus. What is your name?"

What's with the interrogation is what I want to say, but all I can manage is a grunt in response. He may have a point though.

What is my name?

Frighteningly I have to think for a moment before I recall, "-livia."

Was that even me talking?

I still can't get enough air into my lungs and the effort of breathing is making me dizzy.

"What's wrong with her?" A new voice asks this time.

Finally my eyes adjust to the light in the room and I recognise Walter and Astrid.

Were they abducted too?

"She's still hallucinating." Walter is looking at the monitors behind me with concern. "I think I've given her a drug overdose." He bends down out of my line of sight and within a few seconds the mask is flooded with more oxygen.

"What!" Astrid stands to my left and lays a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"Well, normally that's how the tank works. It's probably the phenobarbitol or the ketamine, the effects from the LSD should have worn off."

"Of course it won't have anything to do with your homemade LSD."

"Of course not, I've been making LSD for decades. I might have to revise the recipe however; it's probably a bit too potent."

"Probably?"

A pen light flashes but Walters's fingers prevent me closing my eyes against the intrusion, "At least it doesn't look like you have had a stroke Olivia, that's good news." Walter speaks far too loud, I can't move or see straight but my hearing is fine.

"M'stuck." Nothing is working; I can't even seem to form words properly.

"It's alright." He comforts as he smoothes back the hair on my forehead.

"Ay.. uh...aliens."

Walter smiles, "No, you've had quite a few drugs, they will need to work their way out of your system. I think what you're experiencing now are the side effects of the ketamine, you probably won't be able to move for a few hours. Do you understand?"

"Yea...uh."

Then it all comes back to me, the tank, my memories, everything.

Walter taps his hand on the side of my cheek, "Olivia, stay with me."

My chest heaves and the beeping increases, "S'Petr..."

"I know it's Peter. I know Olivia, but you have to try and stay calm, your heart can't take this stress right now, you could trigger an arrhythmia and I don't want to shock you again. Please calm down; I can't give you a sedative because I'm worried about your breathing."

"We f'got...bout...him..." My eyes tear up at the anguish of losing him.

"But you remembered. We'll help him, don't worry. We won't forget again."

Walter shifts his hands away from my head and takes my hand in his. He places something cold into my palm and closes my unresponsive fingers around the object.

It's Peters' coin.

"Rest now."

My body responds to the words and I feel myself drifting off.

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><p>When my eyes open again, I find that I have been rolled onto my side. The beeping of the monitor has slowed down considerably.<p>

My head is also a lot clearer.

"Hey, you back with us?" Astrid is sitting on a lab stool at the side of the gurney.

"I think so." At least I feel like I'm inside my own body again.

"How are you feeling?" Broyles comes over to stand behind Astrid.

"Horrible." I let out a wry smile; things must be improving as I no longer have the oxygen mask over my face. "What happened?"

I notice the haunted look in Astrid's eyes; tonight's events are going to leave an impact on all of us. "Olivia, it was really scary. Probably the longest twenty four minutes and sixteen seconds of my life. We had to shock you. Twice. There was a moment..." She looks up at the ceiling trying to get her emotions in check, she wipes at her eyes before she continues "Oh god, I thought we wouldn't get you back."

"I'm sorry." There's a huge amount of guilt welling up inside me at what I have put them through.

She wipes her eyes for the last time before pulling a deadly serious face, "I've told Walter and I'll tell you too – no more tank!" She finishes with a smile, but she means what she is saying.

"No more tank." I think I have had enough of it for a lifetime now.

The door to the lab rattles and Astrid calls over, "Walter! Olivia's awake."

"How's our psychonaut doing? You do remember me don't you?"

"Yes, Walter."

Walter checks over the monitors before switching the machines off, "I think we're done with these now." He disconnects the I.V line before turning back round. "Do you think we could sit you up without you projectile vomiting?"

"I think I could manage that." I push myself up slowly and Astrid helps me into a sitting position. Brolyes hands me a t-shirt and sweat pants. "Thanks." I pull the clothes on before wrapping the blanket round my shoulders; I still have the coin in my hand.

How did this happen?

I have two distinct sets of memories, most of my early childhood seems to be the same, but my recent memories are conflicting. There are two truths, I know Peter died, but I know he is alive. I continue to stare at the coin as Walter checks my blood pressure, all of the disjointed memories struggle for position inside my mind.

The flash of the penlight pulls me from my reverie. I make a mental note that the first order of business once I am up and about is to hide that damn thing. Walter studies my pupils, "Well you seem to be neurologically intact."

"That's a bonus." I watch as he carefully removes the IV lines from the backs of my hands, before sticking surgical tape over the sites. Something is bothering me however, "How did you know it was him?"

"As soon as you mentioned the coin, I've never told anyone that Peter collected them. It startled me."

"Startled you?" Astrid cuts in, "Walter you flipped out. He turned the storage boxes in the back office upside down looking for that coin when you were in the tank."

"That's why you went quiet."

Walter nods, he looks timid, but there's a hope behind his eyes that makes me want to cry. "My son died."

I nod slowly, this isn't going to be the news he wanted, but I think he expects what I'm about to say. "I'm afraid he still did Walter." His bottom lip trembles and I hold the coin up to him, "But the other one, the one from over there, he didn't die. He didn't drown in the lake that night. You saved him, but he never returned home, he stayed on this side."

"He did what?" Broyles can't make sense of Walter's actions, but I can tell from the look on Walter's face that he knows that he would have found it near enough impossible to have returned Peter, no matter how good his intentions were of doing so at the time.

"It's all connected somehow. The machine, he was the power source; it was Peter who created the bridge. It will only respond to him, that's why we can't turn it off."

"Then he disappeared in the machine? A malfunction of some kind?" Broyles asks, but he is speaking for everyone.

"No, I don't think it was the machine, he was out of it when he vanished. He was speaking to us on the bridge, he said..."

"Olivia?" Astrid prompts taking my hand.

"The first people." I stop before I tell them who Peter thought they were, that can wait for now, Astrid doesn't look like she could take any more surprises today. "The machine was put back through time, he said that he had seen doomsday and it was worse than we could ever have imagined. It's not a war that we can win, the two worlds are inextricable, if one side dies then we all die. He wanted us to work together to fix the problems, so he created the bridge."

Broyles listens intently before asking the most important question, "So how does he end up being written out of existence?"

I race through my new memories but I don't know the answer to that, "I have no idea."

"Perhaps, I can explain."

We all turn to the doors where the voice came from.

Standing just inside the lab, is an Observer.

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><p>AN: I demand answers!...and the beauty of writing your own stories, you can write them yourself!<p>

Until next time...


	17. September

AN: Hey guys!

Strangely this was actually one of the first chapters I wrote back in September, so it feels quite good to have kept going with this story to have finally caught up to it.

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><p>They always look so calm, bordering on disinterest, waltzing in doing whatever it is that they do wearing their sharp suits and fedora's. He just stands there, watching us with a slight quirk of his head as we all stare back at him. He waits patiently as I shuffle off the edge of the gurney and take some unsteady steps towards him, "Explain."<p>

"It was necessary to correct a mistake, but also to prevent an unsatisfactory outcome."

I continue to walk closer, using one hand for balance on the table while holding the other to my chest; it's probably not too wise to be up and about so soon after going two rounds with a defibrillator. There is only so far I can go before I run out of table to steady myself with. It's almost like he chose that area to stand deliberately, knowing that I wouldn't be able to reach him. "What the hell does that mean?"

Broyles walks slowly round to the other side of the lab in a flanking manoeuvre, but the Observer doesn't seem to be too concerned about us.

"You were on a path that was unacceptable. It would not have led to a solution."

Unfortunately Walters crack earlier about projectile vomiting might not have been that far off the mark, my stomach starts to roll with the new bout of adrenaline coursing through my veins. "What solution? Stop talking in riddles, be specific!"

His head tilts to the other side, "Then ask a specific question."

I blame the day I've had for shortening my fuse, but I'm fed up with his bullshit already. The table tremors under my hands and the glass bottles on the shelves around the room give an ominous rattle. Walter appears at my side and lays a hand on my shoulder, I know from the nervous looks I'm getting from everyone that I have to try and calm down. Blowing up the lab twice in one week would probably be unforgiveable.

Looking back towards the Observer, I nearly missed the subtle change in his expression before he regains composure. Maybe they aren't so emotionally detached after all. "It was you that made Peter disappear?" I deduce, pushing the anger down.

"Yes."

I want answers from him, lots of answers. "You went back and altered the time line."

"Yes."

"But the Peter I remember, the one stuck in the void, why didn't he disappear completely? Why did you trap him in there?"

"We have never made such adjustments to the source before. We put him there to restore balance. It would have been conflicting to have Peter Bishop remain here."

"The source?" Walter picks up before I have a chance to.

"That is the name we gave to your universe. All of the other universes are created from this one. Changing your timeline caused a ripple effect to cascade down all of them."

"But now I remember how it used to be."

"Yes. This is..." He pauses, obviously deciding on his next word carefully, "Unexpected."

Suddenly I wonder why he appeared to us in this moment, nervously my eyes shift to Broyles; he has his hand on his side arm, "Are you going to make me disappear now?"

"No. Although this has been an unintended consequence, you must survive."

"Why?"

"You are the guardian."

The guardian.

William Bell said the same thing to me. That he and Walter used the Cortexiphan drug trials to prepare a guardian to watch the gate between dimensions. I need more clarity than that though, "What does that mean exactly?"

"We cannot see the future, only possibilities. You have the potential to restore order."

"My abilities?"

"Yes. Out of all our attempts, this is the earliest you have reached such a level."

"All your attempts?" Walter asks walking away from me towards the Observer, intrigued by that answer and the possibilities it alludes to.

"We have been here before." He pauses again and I wonder if he will give us a specific number before he replies simply, "Many times."

My head hurts and I'm not sure if that's from the drug trip earlier, my new memories or from the quasi-existentialist conversation that is happening right now. "Ok, so what about Peter?"

"We cannot bring him back."

"But you put him in there!" My anger flares again and consciously I push down the power building inside me.

"We are unable to access the void, as you call it. It is out with our capabilities to retrieve him."

"Out with you capabilities..." I feel physically sick; I don't know what I am going to do if I can't get Peter out. It's not right that he has been swept out of existence into a kind of eternal purgatory, all because the Observers considered him a loose end.

"But you can." The Observer clarifies.

"I can?" I ask slowly.

"Yes, you have been there. You are already beyond us Olivia Dunham."

Walter turns round to face me and looks at me like he has just seen me for the first time.

I don't dwell too much on that revelation at the moment, "Would you try and stop me? If I went in and brought him out?"

"No. If that is what you wish to do. We will not interfere."

"That's a first." Walter states accusingly.

"Walter!" Knowing that the Observers could condemn us all to a life in the void with a click of their fingers makes me think twice about pissing them off.

"I'm just thinking how inappropriate the name Observer is to your kind. We have obviously misjudged you."

"It will have no consequence now to the path you are on." The Observer replies, ignoring Walters' outburst and addressing me.

"How do I get him out?"

"We do not have that answer. You will have to find that solution yourself."

That's not nearly the explanation I wanted but I sense there is no more information to gain from this line of questioning. "Ok, I know that before you stepped in to pull Peter from the lake. However the mistake you made was when you accidentally distracted Walternate from discovering the successful cure, which in turn led to Walter creating a means to travel to the other side. Surely it would have been better not to have distracted Walternate, than it was to let Walter go through into their reality, kidnap Peter and ultimately stand back and watch Peter drown. Why did you choose that moment not to intervene?"

"It was not a mistake. You cannot alter events that will directly impact your own existence."

That opens up a whole new perspective on this situation, "All of this, it had nothing to do with Peter at all did it?"

"He served his purpose." He takes a step back and turns towards the door, "I must be leaving now. Goodbye." He strides out of the lab without turning back.

"Wait a minute!" Taking a chance, I push away from the table intending to chase him down, but my legs protest at the movement and my knee's buckle. Walter catches me under the arm before I hit the ground.

It's left instead to Broyles to run after him into the hall, but he comes back a few seconds later shaking his head, "He's gone; he just disappeared into thin air."

"Son of a bitch." Walter helps me back to a lab stool to sit down, I cover my face with my hands as I slump forwards to lean against the table. "This is crazy."

"I agree Dunham." Broyles take a seat opposite me at the table.

"Well at least we know what happened now. We are further forward than we were this morning." Walter tries to be optimistic.

"So now we just need to figure out how to get Peter out right?" Astrid asks.

"Indeed, and from what our meddling Observer friend said, that will be up to Olivia."

Everyone stays quiet and silence descends on the lab. The Observer revealed some rather large implications during his visit, implications that are going to take awhile to digest.

Essentially he just dumped the weight of the world on my shoulders, or more accurately the weight of two universes.

It's too big, too much.

I'm being crushed by the weight of the responsibility of it all and the only person, who could make me feel lighter, that I could share this burden with, was Peter. I can't do this without him and if I want to see him again, it's up to me to get him out. "I'm so tired."

"It's been a long day; you've been through a lot. You should probably go home and rest Olivia; we can talk about this another time."

"Another time." That phrase has a whole new meaning now.

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><p>AN: A few answers... and no cliffy!<p>

Your comments, reviews, ramblings, and hello's are appreciated... hint...


	18. All Sparks

AN: Oh gosh, it's been a bit delayed, sorry! I have been a bit side tracked recently writing everything else but this chapter! Finally got my unruly brain to cooperate long enough to focus on this and get it finished. Again, this one started off as one chapter, but has been growing arms and legs for a few weeks... so split it into two parts...

Part one...

* * *

><p>It's been over a week now since I went in the tank. Peter hasn't tried to contact me from the void again and I can only assume that he is somewhat appeased now by the fact that I remember who he is.<p>

My abilities as a whole however are completely out of control and the evidence of that is visible throughout my apartment. Sitting on the floor of my kitchen, I lean back to rest against the wall as I survey the damage. I've already packed away everything that wasn't broken during last nights' most recent telekinetic outburst, there's not much left in my apartment now.

I can only hope Rachel and Ella don't stop by for a visit anytime soon.

My mind drifts off through the sea of memories from my old life. Trespassing through the most intimate thoughts and feelings, reliving a life that was once my own, but at the same time, as removed as reading through a strangers personal diary. Many hours have been lost over the last week in this preoccupation, staring off into space, simply remembering.

Remembering Peter.

Our time together seems to have been a series of obstacles, finally cumulating in the events in the bridge room. It nearly worked to separate us forever; fortunately I happened to be an unknown variable to the Observers. They didn't plan that I would ever remember the old timeline. Now that I do, I'm torn up inside; an unbearable anguish burns in my chest knowing that Peter is trapped, but potentially, within my power to reach.

Slightly disconcertingly I'm also struggling to come to terms with who I am. Analysing these new memories, I see facets of myself in the other timeline, but there are subtle differences. My problem is now that I have gained these memories, does that change who I am?

Are we not the product of our memories?

I don't know how long I have been sitting here, but judging from the stiffness in my legs it could be anything from thirty minutes to a couple of hours. I try to work up the energy to tackle the kitchen. Looking at the vast amounts of glass across the floor there's probably not any glassware left in my cupboards.

A knock at the front door snaps me out of my daze. Standing up, it takes a couple of steps for my legs to loosen out, I have a fair idea who is at the door however, I haven't been back to the lab for over a week.

Astrid fixes me with a concerned look as I open the door, Walter stands behind her looking in equal parts both apprehensive and eager to see to me. "Broyles called, he said you were taking some leave. Walter and I were worried about you. Can we come in?" Astrid offers in way of explanation, taking in my dishevelled appearance.

I stand there in a state of complete inaction, I realise belatedly that I didn't even say hello when I opened the door. My mind doesn't cooperate, so instead of saying anything, I open the door fully to let them in.

"Have you had a break-in?" Walter asks, pushing past Astrid and her wide shocked eyes.

"No Walter, it was me." My voice cracking from disuse.

Astrid scans over my bare apartment, "Where is everything?"

"What's left of the living room went into storage a few days ago. I took out the kitchen last night." I gesture to the destruction in the other room and Astrid leans back on her heels to look.

I'm left with exactly one couch in my living room, which Walter sits down on. "It's quite minimalistic."

That's one way to describe it I suppose. My mind begins to wander again as I remain standing just inside the front door.

"Olivia?" Astrid says my name gently.

"Sorry." Giving myself a mental shake, I make my way over to the wall in front of the couch and slide down onto the floor. "I'm not very good company today."

"You should have called us."

"I would have had I not fried my phone this morning. Walter, I don't suppose you considered an "off" switch for the Cortexiphan?"

Walter looks at me, a shadow of guilt in his eyes. "Oh dear. No we didn't think about that at the time."

"Didn't think so." I let my head fall back against the wall. Staring up at the ceiling, I notice for the first time that the light has been blown as well. "As you can imagine, I'm not in a very good frame of mind to be at work..." I trail off, "or be near people." I add quietly. Those fears of turning out like the other Cortexiphan subjects returns full force.

Astrid sits down next to Walter, her hand covering her mouth. "What are you going to do Olivia?"

Hiding out in my apartment for the rest of my life is not an option, although that was the coping strategy for some of the other subjects, I still prefer to face my problems head on.

"You need training." Walter concludes. "I've been thinking about Peter." He continues tentatively.

I'm glad I haven't been the only one. "You had any ideas on how I can get back in there?"

"Some. I think it may have had something to do with the sudden rush of adrenaline you experienced when you thought the train was going to hit you. Getting him out will be another problem entirely though."

"What do you mean?"

"Somehow you will have to use your telekinetic abilities to latch on to him and pull him out with you; it will require massive amounts of energy to bring him back into our space time. Also, there is something else that occurred to me."

"What?"

"I haven't had a cheesesteak for months."

"You're watching your cholesterol remember." Astrid fills in.

"Am I?"

"What else occurred to you Walter? About crossing into the void?"

"Energy flow. You see, energy can only flow in one direction, it can't double back on itself."

"Which means?"

"You will have to start from either this side, or the other side, go into the void, then continue through in the same direction you were travelling in."

"Ok, so no matter which way we do it, I'm going to have to travel to the other side at some point."

"Correct."

Astrid shares a pensive look with me, "Do we want them to know what we are doing?"

"Probably not." I'm not concerned about Fauxlivia, but Walternate is a whole other issue.

"It also depends on you having a fine level of control over your abilities."

All three of us silently regard the carnage in my apartment again. Fine and control aren't exactly the two words I'd use to describe my abilities just now. Learning to control them however is the only solution to getting back to work and having somewhat of a normal life. The training part might not be so hard to come by either; Nina offered Massive Dynamics services to me during the Fabbri case.

"Walter, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I know that I'm going to have to gain control over my abilities, but," I take a breath, not knowing how to continue, but end up settling for the blunt truth. "I'm terrified Walter."

"Olivia-"

I cut him off, "Of what I will become. I've seen what power does to people, it corrupts them, destroys who they are. I don't want to lose myself."

Astrid shakes her head, "That will never happen to you."

"How do you know that?"

"You're not like us Olivia," Walter has a moment of lucidity I have never seen before; "I believe that is the reason you were the only successful Cortexiphan subject. Belly always said that you can choose your fate, but not your destiny."

Walter's words hang in the air.

I know I have a call to make. "Astrid, could I borrow your phone?"

* * *

><p>Nina answers on the second ring, <em>"Agent Dunham, what can I do for you?"<em> She sounds pleasantly surprised to hear from me.

"Nina, hi. I um, would like to take you up on your offer. If it still stands?"

There is a pause on the other end, before Nina replies. _"Of course. Olivia, are you alright? Has something happened?"_

"I've asked Broyles to transfer the reports to you. Hopefully that will explain everything."

"_I'll clear my diary, can you come tomorrow?"_

"Yes, thank you."

"_Olivia, I know that this was a difficult decision for you. You have my word that nothing will happen to you that you don't consent to; however we will have to run some tests. That is unavoidable."_

I haven't been very good around medical facilities since my kidnapping; the nerves start to build in the pit of my stomach. The idea of scientists looking at me like a piece of meat while they satisfy their scientific curiosity makes me want to run for the hills. But if I ever want to see Peter again, I don't have a choice. "What kind of tests?"

"_Nothing like of the sort of tests you were subjected to by Walternate I assure you. We'll have to do a brain scan at the very least. Will that be alright?"_

"That's fine."

"_See you tomorrow Olivia."_

I hang up the phone and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"What did Nina say?"

I turn round from leaning on the kitchen worktop to face Astrid. "She wants to see me tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"Yup. Can I ask you a favour?" Astrid nods, sensing that this is going to be an important request since I tend not to ask for help that often. "Would you come with me? Both of you?"

"Of course." She smiles laying a comforting hand on my shoulder, "You don't have to go through this alone Olivia."

* * *

><p>AN: I know Olivia is a little bit of basket case at the moment, but things will start to improve!<p>

Second part to follow tomorrow...


	19. The Open Door

AN: Hey guys! Thanks for the reviews, they are so appreciated you have no idea! I am outside the US (with no cable/satellite), so still haven't seen S4 yet (desperately avoiding spoilers too), good to know there are some similarities to the current season though, I must be in the right ballpark with my ideas.

Part two...

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><p>"Olivia, Walter, Agent Farnsworth. It's nice to see you. I read the report." Nina pauses, still in obvious disbelief, "I don't know what to say, Peter Bishop is alive?"<p>

We take a seat in Nina's office; the reports are still open on her desk.

"Yeah. I need to find a way to get him out."

"From what I read in the report, I don't think that will be out with your capabilities. They are extraordinary."

"Extraordinary isn't the word I use for them."

"No and I can understand why. These abilities of yours seem to be controlling you at the moment rather than the other way around. You might feel differently when you learn to harness them."

"How are we going to do that?"

"One thing at a time, first we're going to have to do a full medical. Olivia, what you went through last week; we can't start this kind of training unless you're well. You must know yourself that you're not in the best of health right now."

I nod, quietly. If I thought I looked washed out during the Fabbri case, it's nothing compared to what I look like now. An intentional drug overdose and over twenty minutes of tonic-clonic seizures would make you look rough on any day, but add to that the two rounds with the defibrillator and a lifetime of new memories; I probably look like the walking dead.

Thankfully I don't have any mirrors left in my apartment.

At my silence Nina continues, "It's ok; we're going to help you. Walter and Agent Farnsworth are welcome to accompany you, if you want?"

"Please."

Nina stands from her desk, "Follow me."

* * *

><p>We're guided along the corridor to a set of labs, normally when I come here the place is bustling with scientists. "Where is everyone?"<p>

"I sent them all away. Only the essential doctors and scientists are in, I want to try and avoid any undue stress."

Walter chuckles, "That's probably for the best; Olivia blew up my lab last week."

Nina stops and turns to face Walter to see if he is joking, but she is met with three straight faces.

"It was an accident." I try to explain.

"You destroyed my radio." Walter uses a tone I know only too well, he's still a bit angry.

"That probably wasn't an accident." I concede.

Nina uses her swipe card to open a door and ushers us in. This is not your usual exam room, it's one of the main labs. There are at least ten rows of lab tables, not to mention the computer equipment lining the walls. There is a woman in a lab coat at the far side of the lab, she stands when she see's us entering.

"These rooms are specially shielded, it shouldn't be a problem." Nina hits a button on the wall and metal screens close down over the computers lining the walls. "I thought you might be better in a larger room. Not as claustrophobic. This is Doctor Mallory Grant. She will be your physician."

Dr Grant appears to be in her mid-forties, with a wealth of experience behind her eyes. Her dark hair is tied loosely behind her head and she offers a kind smile when she extends her hand. "It's nice to meet you Agent Dunham. We'll take things slow, anything you're not comfortable with just let me know." She has a calm manner about her and I get the idea that she wasn't picked for this task by accident.

"Please, call me Olivia." I shake her hand, and instantly I know that I am going to be able to trust her more than most doctors I've met in recent times.

"I need to do a basic exam; your friends are welcome to stay if you're comfortable with that."

"Yes, that's fine." I've been semi naked floating in a tank of saline in front of them and my boss, I don't think I have much left to be embarrassed about.

"I'll be in my office when you're done, Olivia." Nina, having made the introductions leaves us alone.

Astrid stays close while Walter wanders off inspecting the equipment on the large white expanse of desks. Having a good look around, certain aspects of this room seem very familiar, but I don't know if that's because I have been in here before, or because every floor and lab belonging to Massive Dynamic seems to look exactly the same.

Cold, white and ultra modern.

My mind wanders off; we brought Peter in here for a similar battery of tests when we discovered his connection to the machine.

"Olivia. Are you ok?" Dr Grant has her hand on my shoulder.

I blink a few times, clearing my vision.

"You zoned out for a minute there."

"I've been doing that a lot lately. I'm sorry."

"You're fine." She smiles, seeing that I'm back in the room, "I need to take your blood pressure and do an ECG, will that be ok?"

"Sure." I slide up onto the exam table, while I try to keep track of what Walter is up to and ignore the tray of medical instruments beside me. Regardless of the shielded walls, there is still enough expensive looking equipment in here to damage; I don't think the FBI would appreciate picking up the tab.

ECG hooked up; Dr Grant checks my blood pressure. "It's a bit on the low side."

Astrid, seeing that my mind is preoccupied with trying not to freak out, provides the small talk, "Have you worked here long Dr Grant?"

"Ten years now." She smiles at the fond memory, "I love my work here."

"What areas do you work in?"

"Mainly biology, but bio-chemical interactions are my speciality. I've read everything there is to know about the Cortexiphan trials." Dr Grant continues in her relaxed conversational tone, "I need to take some blood samples next." She has a needle in her hand and despite my best efforts to block it out, some of the memories of the time I spent with Walternate slip into my mind.

The tray of tools beside me rattles and the lights dim briefly. I squeeze my eyes shut and take a few steadying breaths. "I'm sorry, I can't help it."

"Stop apologising, it's alright. I understand that you haven't been given much reason to trust scientists lately. Would you like a small sedative? It might take the edge off?"

"NO!" I reply a bit too loudly, "No, I can't, when they um..."

"Forget I mentioned it, please, I didn't mean to upset you." She takes a look around the lab, "So is that your ability then?"

"One of them."

Her eyebrows rise, "You have more than one?"

I nod, "More like three or four." Thankfully I haven't started fires again, I've not done that since I was a child, but it could only be a matter of time before I rediscover it.

"Wow. No wonder you're having such a hard time just now."

That one sentence makes me think that my initial assessment of her might have been right. I can see the scientific interest she has in me, she wouldn't be human if she didn't, but there is also a concern in her eyes, it was certainly never a trait I saw in the Brandon from over there.

"One more sample and then we're done here, Ok? We'll do the scan next, and we'll call it a day at that."

I nod my thanks as she takes the last blood sample from my arm. My only hope is that I can keep it together long enough not take out the scanner.

* * *

><p>"How did you get on?" Nina asks when we return to her office, several hours after leaving it this morning.<p>

I actually nodded off during the scan, testament to the fact I haven't had a full night's sleep in months. "Not too bad, thanks."

"It's quite alright. I have the results here."

"May I?" Walter asks, gesturing to the computer tablet Nina holds in her hand.

"Absolutely." She hands it over to Walter, who eagerly begins pouring over the results. "There is nothing to be overly concerned about."

"Overly?" I look over Walter's arm to see the data he is scrolling though, but it doesn't make any sense to me.

"You're underweight and iron deficient, which I think may explain your current pallor. What is slightly concerning is the unidentified chemical we discovered in your blood."

My attention snaps back to Nina, "What kind of chemical?"

"We've never seen it before. We do know that it's synthetic, it may be connected with the Cortexiphan, but we're not sure."

"I would like a full copy of all the results please." Walter asks, not even looking up.

"Of course, we will make them available to you."

"Walternate?" My mind jumps back to the experiments I was subjected to during my kidnapping.

"Perhaps. I've got a team working on identifying its function, but that may take several days."

"Since I've been back, it has been easier to access my abilities. I feel like a door has been opened that I'm not able to close."

"Regardless, you should be able to control your abilities, the other subjects did."

Briefly I'm thrown for a loop, "What other subjects?"

"Nick Lane, Nancy Lewis and James Heath to name but a few of the original test subjects we have rehabilitated successfully."

"Rehabilitated?"

"Yes."

"Amazing..." Walter mumbles, but it's not directed at the conversation happening in the room, he is still engrossed in the results.

"Walter?"

"Olivia, you have a wonderful brain."

"Thanks. I think." I don't mind people having an interest in it, so long as I get to keep it in my head.

Nina stands and switches on the monitor on the wall, displaying the same screen as the one Walter is viewing on the computer tablet. "We have brain scans of all the Cortexiphan subjects we have come in contact with. They allowed us to map some of your abilities. We have discovered that Cortexiphan subjects have some common activated regions."

I walk over to the monitor trying to understand what I'm looking at. "Ok. So am I like them?" There are six different scans up, all showing different areas.

"All the subjects display activity in their neo cortex and one or two other small regions. Your map, Olivia, is slightly different. In short, none of the other subjects compare to you."

Nina changes the view, and bright yellow and red sections appear, showing heightened levels of activity.

Walter abandons the tablet for the larger image on the monitor. "Your brain is lit up like a Christmas tree."

Nina points to the brightest area on the scan. "For a start you have far more advanced activity in your thalamus and neocortex, not seen in any of the other subjects."

At my confused look, Walter explains. "Think of your thalamus as the switch board for all the sensory information you collect. It would make sense that this region would be activated in Cortexiphan subjects."

"Because Cortexiphan works on perception?"

"Yes and the neo cortex is involved specifically with higher brain functions such as sensory perception. This may be the reason you can differentiate between objects and people from the other universe." Nina clarifies.

"Ok. What else?"

"Well this is where we enter new territory. Here, in your hippocampus, which is the region associated with memory, specifically the converting of short term to long term memories."

Astrid shares a look with me, "Your photographic memory."

I nod silently in response.

"Also you have large activated areas in you both your motor and visual cortex, but as you can see from the scan there are small pockets scattered all over, including some regions we can't begin to explain with our current level of medical science. We've never seen anything like it."

Given this new information, it's obvious that Cortexiphan has had a substantial influence on creating the person I am today, but I can't help but wonder who I would have become had I not been part of Walter and Bells experiment.

A small part of me knows the answer to that.

I would have been normal.

"This is the address where we will conduct your training, it's just outside Boston." Nina hands me a business card. "We thought it would be easier than asking you to come into Massive Dynamic headquarters every time."

I don't recognise the address, I hand it over to Astrid, but she shakes her head as well.

"Is this where you trained the other Cortexiphan subjects?"

"No, this facility has been custom built."

"Custom built for what?"

"Not what, Olivia. For you."

"I don't understand."

"William foresaw that this day would come, that you would need a place to hone your abilities. Someplace safe."

"What are you saying?"

"This only one part of the facility. The other, identical part has been built in the same location in the parallel universe."

My mind tries to wrap round this new piece of information. I'm at a loss for words; more and more I see that my fate has never been my own.

"This facility has more than one use, Olivia. It's a training centre, away from prying eyes. It also gives you a safe house on the other side should you find yourself trapped over there again, but given the latest piece of information in your report it will have another use." Nina stops there, giving me time to fill in the blanks.

Realisation dawns on me, "A staging area for rescuing Peter."

"Indeed."

"Do they know about this?"

"If by "they" you mean Walternate, no, they don't know anything about the facility or who owns it. It was bought by William under an alias, it's untraceable. The people who work in the other facility are loyal to our cause, they can be trusted. We have more allies than you think. There are many people, on both sides, who don't believe that war and destruction is the solution to this problem."

"You think I could be that solution?"

"Yes. You can report to the training centre whenever you are ready. I'll let them know to expect you. Olivia before you go, I have a matter to discuss with you privately."

Astrid gives me a nod, "Come on Walter."

Walter hands the tablet back to Nina, "Can we go find something to eat I'm starving?"

"We'll wait outside." She calls over her shoulder as she leads him out by the elbow.

The door clicks shut and Nina gestures for me to take a seat, before she sits down beside me she retrieves a white folder from her desk. "I always thought your unique talents were wasted at the FBI, now given the development of your abilities, how do you see yourself fitting in there now?"

"To be honest, I haven't given it much thought."

"We have." Nina hands the folder over to me.

I don't open it, not really knowing where this conversation is going. "What's this?"

"It came direct from William Bell this morning. It's a job offer." The expression on my face must have been verging on comical, as Nina doesn't give me time to respond. "You don't need to give me an answer immediately; this isn't an offer that is going to go away."

"What would you have me do?"

"Same as you are doing just now, working the Fringe cases, obviously it would become a joint operation between the Government and Massive Dynamic, but it would give you a sizeable private backing."

"Ok." There must be a catch, "There is something else though, isn't there?"

"Yes. You know that Massive Dynamic has a vested interest in the parallel universe. That our technological advancements come directly from their side."

"Yes."

"However we don't have a reliable way to travel back and forth. The bridge has it uses, but as you can imagine it's not very good for our more..." She pauses, searching for the most tactful words, "discrete operations."

"Go on." I ask, narrowing my eyes wondering if by discrete, she means illegal.

"William still believes that war with the other side is inevitable, that we have only managed to postpone it for the time being. We need someone with your skills on our side Olivia, but equally you are going to need more help than the FBI can offer you. This is separate matter however, we will continue with your training and the rescue of Peter Bishop regardless if you take up this offer or not." She pauses, giving me a warm smile. "Although I hope you will."

"Does Broyles know that you were going to make me this offer?"

"He does. It's not a secret."

That comes as a bit of surprise to me, I had expected she was going behind his back. "I'll need to think about this."

"I would expect nothing less."

* * *

><p>Astrid and Walter are waiting just outside the office, "You ok? What was that about?"<p>

"A job offer."

"Are you serious?" Astrid's voice is up at least two octaves. "What did you say?"

"That'll think about it. I don't know." Walter is rummaging through a white paper bag, for a moment I wonder how he managed to get a takeout so quickly. "What's in the bag?" I ask as the three of us start towards the open elevator.

"You're new drug regime." He replies, checking out the contents of one of the bottles. "Iron tablets and multi vitamins." He lowers his voice as we enter, "Don't worry. I'll test them in the lab first just to make sure!"

Walters's paranoia makes me smile, but I can't help but share his suspicion. The job offer was a completely unexpected conclusion to today's visit. Obviously I'm now a very valuable commodity, but does Massive Dynamic have my best interests at heart? Or am I becoming part of their long-term, shady agenda?

* * *

><p>AN: Can't guarantee my mind won't jump around like a hyperactive cricket on a pogo stick... but promise to get next chapter out as soon as I can...<p>

Take care,


	20. The Facility

AN: Hey everyone! I can now say I have finished writing this story... don't fear, there are still some chapters left to go, (that definitely need polished off before I let anyone read them!) my hope is to get them to you over the next couple of weeks. Oh and pardon the pseudo-chemistry... (I never did like that subject)

* * *

><p>As Massive Dynamic facilities go, this one looks like all the others on the outside. The only difference, alluding to the nature of the experiments going on in here, is the double wired fence surrounding the building and the armed security guards at the entrance.<p>

Broyles holds the door open as Walter and I step through, Nina is waiting for us in the lobby.

Nina appraises me as I walk in, "You're looking a bit better Olivia." She swipes her security pass, the door behind her slides open "This way, we have a lot to discuss."

The three of us follow Nina through into a long white corridor. "Thanks, yeah, I'm not sure if that's due to the medication or Walters' cooking."

Walter smiles, "I've been making dinner!" He quips in a light tone.

I would say it's bordering on force feeding, but I'm not complaining, Walter happens to be quite an accomplished cook. He has all but moved in to my apartment in the last couple of weeks. Astrid and Walter have been trying to pull me out of the morose, withdrawn state I slipped into when I got my memories back. I won't say that I'm back to normal yet, but I'm not sure I ever will be.

We approach an elevator which opens automatically. "There are three main floors and a sub basement level, where we are heading now." Nina explains, "It's here that you will conduct your training. It's ten floors below the surface, so that our experiments are undetectable on the other side."

Stepping in as the doors close I watch as Nina swipes her card again, opening a palm reader. The lights change in the elevator, to a red hue.

"It's like a James Bond movie." Walter muses.

I only hope we're not going into the villain's lair.

"It's a scanner, only employees with the highest security clearance know this area even exists."

* * *

><p>There is an artificial light down here that gives off the feeling of natural light, if I didn't know any better I would say we were still above ground. We enter a conference room and I'm struck again how white everything is in here, even the table seems to luminesce.<p>

"Please take a seat. We have the results from the tests we conducted." Nina gestures for us to sit round the table. Dr Grant is already here, she offers a warm smile in greeting.

"And?"

"Dr Grant." Nina looks to Grant to continue.

There is a look on Grant's face, but I don't know her well enough to know what it means. Collecting her thoughts she remains silent as she pushes a copy of the results over to each of us. "It concerns the unidentified chemical we found in your blood, Olivia."

I share a nervous look with Broyles, before turning back to Grant. "Do you know what it is?" I open the folder but the numbers and charts mean nothing to me.

"It's a synthetic biogenic amine. We're calling it C-127."

Walter pours over the results, already on the second page.

"What does it do?"

I catch the look that passes between Grant and Nina. "It's a Cortexiphan agonist." Grant explains.

"Walternate!" Walter shouts, having got to the last page, he slams the folder shut on the table making me jump," He's done this to you!" He pushes away from the table and starts to pace.

My heart is hammering in my chest, I still don't know what this means. I have some idea what that look meant on Grants face when she started this conversation. Now given Walter's reaction, I know this isn't going to be good news.

"This is not naturally occurring and it's far beyond our understanding of neuroscience."

"Walter?" I try to snap him out of his pacing, but it only seems to make him more agitated.

"Why would he have created this? It doesn't make sense; he would have known what it was going to do to Olivia." He replies looking at Grant.

It feels like I have joined this conversation in the middle, "Woah! Hold on a minute. Could someone break this down a little?"

"Sorry." Grant remains calm when she replies, pointing to the results. "It looks like Walternate was trying to create a chemical to act as a bonding agent for the Cortexiphan."

"Why?"

Walter looks to me in despair, "So it could be given directly to adults."

"Ok." Again my eyes flick to the silent Broyles, I notice the twitch in his jaw as he clenches his teeth together. "So he tried it out on me first?"

"Yes, but something unexpected happened, because you're body has already accepted the Cortexiphan, C-127 just doesn't act as an agonist. It's a catalyst."

"It's ramping up your abilities." Walter fills in, bluntly.

"So that's why it's been easier to access them lately?" More of the puzzle pieces start to fall into place.

"It's more than that. The structure of C-127 is a derivative of epinephrine."

"Adrenaline." Walter clarifies. "All the times you have accessed your abilities lately have been pre-empted with surges of adrenaline."

Grant nods, "It's also why it's still in your blood stream. Your body is able to make it." Grant can't conceal the worry in her eyes. "With your permission we would like to repeat the blood tests and scans."

"Of course." I nod, still numb. This conversation hasn't sunk in yet.

Sharing a look with Broyles he speaks for the first time, "From what you are saying then, Walternate could potentially use this information to treat adults with Cortexiphan."

"Indeed." Nina also looks highly concerned about this discovery.

Walter slumps back down into the chair beside me, "Dimension jumping super soldiers."

Definitely not good news.

* * *

><p>Broyles stays behind to talk more with Nina, as Grant shows us round into the main lab. A seated figure in a lab coat spins round in a lab stool when he hears us entering. "Hi, Agent Dunham. Walter." Brandon Fayette greets us with his usual boyish grin. "Good to see you again."<p>

"This is someplace you have here!" Walter rushes over to the lab equipment in the middle of the room. "Is this what I think it is?"

"If you think it's a dimensional field generator, then yes."

"Does it work?"

"Uh, unfortunately, no. Have a look at this." Brandon has a smaller device on his lab worktop with a mug on it.

"Wait, I've actually seen this experiment before."

"You have?" Walter looks at me, in confusion. "When?"

"The other timeline. It's a long story, the mug, once it's crossed over becomes molecularly unstable, right?"

"Right." Brandon replies looking shocked that I've interrupted his demonstration.

Walter sighs, "You're such a spoil sport Olivia."

"Sorry."

Brandon holds the mug up, "At any rate, since you're here training, we might be able to get some readings from you; to see how you do it might help us solve this problem."

"Ok."

At Brandon's look, Grant steps into the conversation. "Obviously we have your safety at the upmost importance. Due to your abilities and the kind of situations you may find yourself in, on both sides, we wanted to ask you're consent to implant a sub-dermal tracker."

The thought that I had in the elevator rears its head again, who are the bad guys here? I'm sure it was some innocuous statement like that, that got the whole Fringe Division team over there to agree to the trackers as well. Thinking back to Fauxlivia's reaction during our last conversation, she looked physically ready to cut it out our arm right there and then. Am I making the same mistakes they did? Although I know, far from being blind like they were, I'm making them with my eyes wide open to all the repercussions.

At my hesitation Grant tries to soothe over my concerns. "It won't be active all the time, just when you enter the building."

"I only have your word for that." My voice is low, carrying an obvious warning.

"It can be removed at any time on your orders." Grant placates. "Given the nature of your abilities, the training you are about to do. It's not just a tracker; bio-sensor might be a better way to describe it, it records heart rate and blood pressure as well as measure levels of stress hormones."

Brandon clears his throat, "You see if you want to get Peter out, we need to know everything we can about the physiology of how your abilities work. We need to get data as you move between the two sides, it's the only way we're going to figure this out."

Taking more time to think about it, I can't believe I'm about to agree to this. "Where would you put it?"

"It might be less intrusive if we put it in your hip. But really it could go anywhere." Grant replies.

"OK."

"I'll get set up; it should only take a few minutes."

Walter comes over and speaks quietly, "Are you sure about this Olivia?"

I shake my head subtly, "Not really. What choice do we have? We asked them for help."

Walter pats my shoulder reassuringly as Grant returns with a tray containing a syringe. "The device is small; you shouldn't even notice it once it's in. Could you sit on the lab stool, I just need you to pull you shirt up."

I take my jacket off and hand it to Walter while taking a seat on the stool. I look into the tray; the device is the size of matchstick, about the same kind of size as a birth control implant. I lift up the side of my shirt and push down the side of my pants. Grant cleans a small area on my right hip with iodine.

"It might sting a little."

"It's ok." I'm sure I've had worse. The needle pricks the skin on my hip, making me wince.

"That's it in."

Brandon pulls up a screen on his computer, "I'm going to have to calibrate the sensor now; it should only take a few moments before it comes online."

The door to the lab opens and Nina and Broyles walk in, "How is everything going?"

"We're doing fine." Grant replies, tidying up.

I wonder what took them so long to get down here, Broyles' face gives nothing away as to the conversation they've had.

"Are you feeling up to crossing over to the other facility? I need to calibrate this with you on the other side as well." Brandon asks me.

"Uh, sure, I guess."

Nina shoots a look to Brandon at his impatience. "If you're not feeling up to it, we could do it another day."

"No, it's alright." It's one thing crossing over to avoid being hit by a train, but I have never done this on command before.

"You'll meet with a man called Jonas Stanfield. He is the head of tech services over there, he's expecting you." Nina explains.

"Could you also take this with you?" Brandon holds up a silver case, "Give it to Stanfield?"

"Yeah, I can do that." Assuming I actually control my abilities enough to let me cross over.

"Stand over there." He gestures to a clear area in the lab, "Just when you're ready, take your time."

The case is heavier than it looks when I take it from Brandon. I move into position, it's not helping that I have five people's attention firmly fixed on me. I tighten my grip on the handle and try to shut them out, closing my eyes I take a long steady breath. A few uncomfortable moments pass when nothing seems to happen, but then I feel it. The tingle starts in the base of my skull, spreading over the top of my head as nausea settles in the pit of my stomach. The world shakes, phasing out, as the universe passes through me.

* * *

><p>I experience the sensation of falling, my body jumps and I take a step back to regain my balance. Opening my eyes I look around. The room is exactly the same, but the people watching me are different. My ears pop and I can hear a siren wailing in the background.<p>

A young man, who looks to be no older than his mid twenties, calls over to the white coats standing at the side of the room. "Shut that alarm off!" He has black spiked hair, with matching dark eyes. "Hi, I'm Jonas Stanfield." He extends his hand towards me. "Welcome to Paradigm Systems."

"Olivia Dunham." I shake his hand back. "Paradigm Systems?"

"Yeah, that's the name above the door. The top floors are actually a legitimate security company. Down here is another story though. Could I have the case?" he nods to the silver case, my knuckles have turned white around the handle.

"Oh yeah, sure. Here." Still a bit disorientated at the journey I pass the case over. I really hope that if I get anything out of this training, its being able to move across without feeling like I'm going to lose my lunch.

Stanfield lays the case flat on the table and opens it up. "I won't be long." He says, as he plugs the terminal into the side of the case.

"No problem." I watch as he works, but the device inside the case isn't something I have ever seen before.

Stanfield leans forward and talks into computer. "I've got it Dr Fayette; results are on their way back to you now."

"You have web cam?" I can see Brandon sitting on the other side, looking into his computer.

Stanfield smiles at my surprised tone, "Yeah, transmitting data like audio or visual isn't a problem now. What is a problem is trying to send objects across without them destabilising. We're hoping now that you're here, we'll be able to see where we're going wrong."

"The device in the case?"

"It's a quantum mass accelerometer." He turns the case round so that I can see in. At my blank look Stanfield explains, "In short it measures changes at the quantum level." He points to a glass cylinder in the middle of the case, "The electrodes are suspended within a vacuum. It's very cool. This is the first time it's gotten here in one piece, no signs of destabilisation. Thank you."

"That's alright; I didn't really do anything besides hold onto it. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." Stanfield replies, not taking his eyes off the numbers scrolling down his computer screen.

"When I came over, there was an alarm going off? Did I trigger that?"

"No, Dr Fayette sent the code that you were going to travel across, which set off the protocol. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious."

Stanfield types into the keyboard and pulls up a new screen, he takes a moment looking over the data. "You didn't even set off any of the detectors in here. As far as I can tell, you move cleanly between the two sides. You don't even cause a ripple."

"Thanks." Not that I didn't trust Fauxlivia before, but it confirms what she told me that day in my office.

Brandon's voice comes through the computer, _"That's it Agent Dunham, we're done here. You can come back now."_

Stanfield packs the case up, "You can take this back with you. It was nice to meet you Agent Dunham."

"Nice to meet you too, please call me Olivia."

"Olivia." He says testing out my name. He leads me back over to the clear area, "I'll see you next time."

"Thanks." I take a hold of the case again and wait for him to stand back.

It's strange but I can almost feel the pull of the other side when I'm travelling from this direction, it makes it easier to go back. It only takes a second before the universe rushes through me.

* * *

><p>I open my eyes to everyone's stunned expressions.<p>

"Here." I hand the case over to the motionless Brandon, who snaps out of the daze to take it from me. "What's wrong?" I probably took it for granted what I was doing, although this is not a new experience to me, it's the first time everyone has seen me cross over. To their eyes I suppose I simply vanish into thin air.

"Incredible." Broyles mutters, still staring at me.

Walter for his part looks like a beaming proud parent. "I always knew you were, Olivia."

Nina is the first to regain her composure, "There is someone here to meet you Olivia." She steps aside, revealing an extra person in the room. "Meet your new trainer."

The figure stands up from where he was sitting behind Nina, "You don't call? You don't write?"

I'd recognise his voice anywhere, "Sam!"

"Hello Agent Dunham. I hear things have been getting interesting?"

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for reading!<p> 


	21. The Coin

AN: Let's kick the tires and light the fires - so to speak...

* * *

><p>"Checkmate." Sam moves his piece across the board, "I'm sensing that you're mind is elsewhere today."<p>

Sam and I have been playing chess for the last hour. It is a fairly normal game, except for the fact we're playing it across universes. I'm looking at Sam through a web camera; the chess board is on his side, while I move my pieces using my abilities. There has been many frustratingly long hours spent with Sam in the last couple of weeks. His training methods are unconventional, but they have proved to be very effective at aiding me to control my abilities. However he is just as evasive and vague as I remember him. He dodged any questions I asked about why he took this job at Massive Dynamic; his explanation was simply, "Bowling is not what it used to be." Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.

Scratching my head, I frown at Sam's last move; it was so obvious a novice player would have seen the set up coming. "I'm sorry."

"You're thinking about Peter?" He deduces.

"Yeah." I've not stopped thinking about him over the last few weeks; idly my fingers seek out his coin in my pocket. "I have so many questions."

"But not so many answers?"

"Hold on." Feeling that this conversation needs to take place face to face, I turn in my seat towards Stanfield, "Hey I'm going back."

"No problem Olivia, I'll log you out." He replies without turning around from his computer, distracted with whatever he is working on.

Relaxing, the world slips through me, returning me back to my side to the seat opposite Sam. He sits there, unfazed that I've just jumped across from a parallel universe. "I'm fed up being a pawn in someone else's game." I continue, borrowing the chess analogy. An absent nudge of my mind sends the checkmated King toppling over; it spins in a semi circle before settling on the board.

Sam quirks an eyebrow at my demeanour, "I feel a philosophical conversation coming on."

"Can I make my own choices? Or is free will just an illusion?" I fire back, launching straight into one of the many things that have been bothering me lately.

He leans back in the chair and puts his hands behind his head, "That, is a very good question."

"I don't know what to do anymore, what the right choice is."

"You wanna pep talk?" He replies lightly.

"I just want everyone to cut the crap." I snap and instantly regret it. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you." Sensing that I owe Sam more of an explanation, I pull the coin from my pocket.

"Was this his?" He takes the coin from me, studying it.

"Yeah, he collected them as a boy, apparently. This is the only thing I have of his, the only tangible proof that he existed."

"Maybe answers are closer than you think." Sam replies cryptically handing the coin back. "Let's call it a day today."

* * *

><p>In a desperate attempt to escape the sterile environment at Massive Dynamic, I've come back to Walter's lab to think. Sam seems to have insights into events that should be beyond his knowledge, and from what I know of him, he never makes flippant remarks; they always mean something. It also set alarm bells off in my head, not that I make a habit of taking advice from hallucinations, but dream Peter from Walter's bootleg LSD trip, told me that the coin was important and to keep it with me. All my attention is focused on it now; I have to figure out what is so important about it.<p>

The liberty half dollar, spins in a fast tight circle on the surface of the table; staring at it has become somewhat hypnotic.

"Would you like to try my new milkshake?" Walter calls from across the lab.

"What flavour is it?" I may be distracted, but I have learnt over the years to ask before trying anything Walter makes in here.

"Bacon!"

"Walter that's revolting!" Astrid replies saving me the trouble.

"Suit yourself."

I continue to watch the coin as it slows down; starting it's decent into an unsteady wobble. Halting the deterioration with my mind, I catch it before it falls flat; leaving it balanced on its edge.

Astrid interrupts before I can spin it back up again. "That's pretty amazing."

Belatedly, it hits me that the noise of the coin spinning across the wood surface has probably been driving her crazy for the last thirty minutes. "Hmm?"

"What you can do." She takes a seat on the stool opposite me. "You've learnt to control them so fast."

"Not fast enough."

"You'll get him out, Olivia." She pauses for a moment before continuing, "Do you remember what you said, before we asked Nina for help? That you didn't want your abilities to change you?"

"Yeah?" I lift my head up to look at her, "Do you think I'm different now?"

Instantly she realises how that sounded, "Not in a bad way." she tries to clarify, flustered.

I smile, trying to diffuse her uneasiness, "At least I'm not acting like a crazy person anymore."

"Nothing wrong with crazy people." Says the man drinking bacon flavoured milkshake out of a conical flask.

Astrid laughs, seeing the joke there too, "Speak for yourself."

Leaning over to pick the coin up, I hold it up to Walter, "Where did you get this from?"

"A small shop, I forget where, it was Peter's favourite." He speaks around the straw still in his mouth.

"Hmm no, this coin. Specifically this coin here. You didn't get it from a shop."

Walter puts the flask down, surprised. "How could you know that?"

"Walter?" I prompt him for an answer.

Caught off guard by my question he takes a moment before he explains, "The Observer gave it to me. He told me it was from another place."

Astrid looks between Walter and I, "Olivia what's going on?"

"It's not just a coin." My close scrutiny over the last thirty minutes has paid off. "It's humming. There's something inside it."

"What?" Walter takes it from me and holds it to his ear. "I don't hear anything."

"Test it." It confirms one theory; it's not a noise anyone else can hear. I'm not sure I'm physically hearing anything from it myself; rather it's giving off a subtle vibration.

Walter hurriedly searches for an amp meter, plugging two crocodile clips onto it. His eyes widen, "Good god! How is that possible?"

"Walter?"

"You're right; it has a small electrical charge." He examines the coin under a magnifying glass. "There are no marks on the outside, nothing to indicate that it's anything but what it is. How would we get it apart?"

"May I?"

Walter nods, handing the coin back to me, "You're not going to break it are you?"

"I'll put it back. Promise." Focusing back on the coin, I wrap my mind so tightly around it; it feels as if I'm physically squeezing it. I'm not even sure I can do what it is I want to do, but if Walter was angry with me for weeks for breaking his radio, he's going to be furious if I destroy his dead son's favourite coin. Deciding that it's probably good motivation to keep in mind, I watch, slightly detached as the coin lazily rises up to hover above my palm. Slowly it starts to spin, when it picks up enough speed I begin to pull it apart; disintegrating it layer by layer into droplets that look like floating globules of mercury. At its very centre is a small square object; certainly not something that should be inside a coin. Slowly I reach in and gently grasp the foreign object, pulling it away from the floating mess that used to be Peter's coin.

Sensing Walter's concerned gaze at what I've just done, I spin the coin up. Letting the droplets reform back into their solid shape before letting it tumble back onto the desk with a metallic clatter.

Walter picks it up; examining it closely to make sure it's back to normal.

Astrid's eyes are wide, "You're seriously scary. You know that right?"

Walter satisfied that the coin is in one piece, gestures to the object I've retrieved from inside the coin. "What is that?"

"Not sure, maybe a computer chip?"

Astrid peers over; "More like a memory card, a very small one." She takes the chip and moves over to her computer, slotting the chip into a universal card reader. The screen goes blank for a second before being filled with scrolling code. "It's encrypted. I've never seen anything like this, it's incredibly complex."

"Could you hack it?"

"I don't think so." Astrid presses a key and new window pops up prompting for a security password. "We're going to need a password. It's a voice recognition programme, it will only respond to the right person and the right phrase. Any ideas?"

"It could be anything!" Walter exclaims.

Deciding that nothing has been done here by chance, I hit the enter key and speak into the mic. "Einai kalytero anthropo apo ton patera toy." Using Peter's Greek phrase.

There is a brief pause in the scrolling code before the card unlocks.

Astrid turns to stare at me, "Ok, how could you have possibly known that!"

I shrug, "Lucky guess." But they know it wasn't.

"There's a video here."

I'm taken aback by the man that appears on the monitor, it's Peter.

"Is that him?" Walter moves closer to get a better look, this is the first time he has seen his son as an adult.

"Yeah."

"I thought he'd look younger."

That's true, his hair is grey around the temples, he's aged; this is not the Peter I remember. Before we analyse him anymore, he starts to speak.

"_If you're watching this, then we did something right."_ His tone is flat; the spark I was used to seeing behind his eyes is missing, replaced with a dull weariness.

Smiling, self depreciatingly he continues, _"I had this whole speech planned for you, but it doesn't seem to matter now. Things got so wrong here Olivia. I made the wrong choice once, but I won't do it again."_

He rubs his hand across the stubble on his face, _"If things are different then this probably won't make much sense to you, but I have to try and explain."_ A crease forms between his eyebrows as he battles to put the words together, _"You died Olivia."_

Now I understand the look in his eyes, he's haunted; part of him has died too.

"_I destroyed Walternate's world, so he made it his mission to destroy mine, one piece at a time, so I could experience loss like he did." _The pain is still visible in his features as he struggles to say the words._ "He killed you."_

"Oh my god." Walter is the only one of us capable of vocalising any thoughts just now.

"_I can't live in a world without you in it. So we modified the machine, to show me this future, so that I could make a different choice, there has to be a way to save both sides, it's the only way." _He takes a moment to compose himself, shaking his head,_ "The universe handed you a raw deal Olivia, you need someone to look out for you and I'm going to make sure this time you get a second chance."_

It all clicks into place for Walter, "Cheat the rules of time! Who could have thought of that?"

Astrid shoots him a disbelieving look, "I wonder."

"_I don't know what will happen, but it can't be worse than this." _The camera shakes as a distorted wave, bends the light in the room, Peter lurches forwards to steady himself.

"Tidal gravitational forces." Walter surmises.

"What's that?" I ask, not taking my eyes of the screen.

"We're watching his universe get torn apart, there's maybe only a matter of days left until it's completely destroyed."

"_I don't have much time, but Olivia, you can't trust Walternate! The destruction here would have been inevitable anyway, but Walternate has accelerated us towards the end." _The shaking increases, toppling the camera over. It blanks out before Peter appears on the screen again, a wave of static spreads across the screen, "_I never got a chance to say goodbye to you, but maybe this time I won't have to." _Struggling to stay upright Peter holds onto the camera, the picture blacks in and out, _"Olivia I..." _

It cuts out before he finishes, but I have a fair idea what he was going to say. During the video I noticed the wedding band on his finger, I wonder if Astrid and Walter saw it too.

We all stare at the blank screen in silence.

Blinking to clear my eyes, I turn my back taking a deep breath. "For the time being, this stays between us."

"Of course." Astrid replies quietly.

It's not every day you find out how your future self died, although now the timeline has been altered, I expect these events won't happen this way now. I've never actually thought about the myriad of ways versions of myself have met their ends, and it's quite obvious to me now my fate might not be rosy either. That said Peter's warning from the future is not one I'm going to ignore.

Walter spins on his heels agitated, "Olivia, I need to go to the lab."

"You're in your lab, Walter."

"The other lab, with the young man in the white lab coat. Branded?"

"Brandon." I correct him. "I'll drive you." I've made a decision, but there is someone I need to talk to first.

"Excellent, I'll grab my coat!"

Pulling my phone from my pocket I hit the speed dial, "Hey, it's me. You got time for a drink?"

* * *

><p>Finding myself in the quiet corner of the bar, nursing a high ball of whisky I mull over Peter's warning. Our future may be different from his, but he confirmed one thing to me that I think regardless of our choices, will always be the same; Walternate is one tricky son of a bitch.<p>

A shadow spreads across the table, "What's going on Dunham?" Broyles, slides into booth to sit opposite me.

"Thanks for coming, Sir."

He nods, but seeing the look in my eyes, gestures to the waitress to bring another whisky over.

"You know about the job offer." It comes out as a statement rather than a question, Nina told me that Broyles knew.

The waitress returns, placing the drink down for Broyles, but he waits until she is out of ear shot before speaking. "I do. I also know you haven't given Nina an answer yet."

I push the contract over to Broyles without saying anything else; he scans over the pages before pausing on the last one. "The salary is blank."

"Yup. I noticed that. I've to name my figure." I reply before taking a long drink, feeling it burn on the way down.

Broyles raises his eyebrows. "Why haven't you signed this yet?"

If money was my motivating factor, the contract would have been signed a long time ago. "Because I felt like I was selling my soul to the devil."

Broyles sits back, "I agree we've had our fare share of run ins over the years with Massive Dynamic, but they have proven their loyalty on many occasions." He studies me silently for a moment, "You've made up your mind now. Something happened."

"Something happened" I confirm with a rue smile, "I found a bigger devil. I can't go into too much detail, but when the time comes I can't stop this by myself, I'm going to need more than the FBI behind me."

"That was the same conclusion we came to as well." Broyles says coming clean.

"You were involved in this?"

He nods, "It's been on the cards for a long time. We think it's going to be necessary in the long run."

"If you knew, why didn't you say something?"

"Because we knew it would have to be a decision you came to yourself."

"Wait I'm confused, how will this work? I trade my badge in to become, what? A private mercenary? How will I have any legal authority to do my job?"

"Because Dunham, you will be trading in one badge for another. You'll be working under the authority of the Defense Department."

My mind spins, "The DoD? Sir, this just hasn't come out of nowhere, when were these plans made?"

"When the bridge was formed. There are no guidelines, no precedence for what we are doing here. The order came from the very top; we were way beyond the scope of the FBI. It was time to form a new black ops division."

"You'll still be in charge?"

"Not exactly." He takes a long drink, the ice cubes clinking in the glass.

I dread what he is about to say next.

"I'll be the liaison for the DoD."

The irony of that is not missed on either of us.

Horrible thoughts of some military General swooping in to take command of this operation twists my stomach into knots. "Sir, I don't understand. Who will be in charge?"

He fixes me with a stare, "You."

"What?" The air suddenly feels like it has been sucked out of the room.

"That was part of the deal made by Massive Dynamic; it was a request that came direct from William Bell."

"Why?"

"You'll have to ask him that." Seeing me struggle to understand, he explains, "Olivia, you have a unique perspective on this situation. There is no one more qualified to handle this role. William Bell knows that." He catches my eye, "And I know that."

This is quite a lot to take in. "What happens to Astrid and Walter?"

"They will remain on the team. Along with Peter Bishop, when he returns." Broyles reaches into his jacket and takes a pen out, sliding it over the table towards me. "And of course I will always be here. This is the way forward Olivia."

I nod, picking the pen up. It still feels heavy in my hand as I sign my name on the contract.

* * *

><p>AN: There probably should be some rules regarding time travel that you shouldn't break, like sending messages back, but hey it's the Bishop men we are talking about here. Oh the repercussions indeed - Olivia signed the contact, don't know if that was a smart move or not... I'm saying nothing... teehee :-)<p> 


	22. Best Laid Plans

AN: A little mid week update -

* * *

><p>"Hey" Brandon greets me as I enter the lab at Massive Dynamics training facility.<p>

Walter phoned me at 6am this morning, asking me to meet him here. "Has he been home yet?" I gesture over to Walter who is frantically writing a series of equations over two white boards.

Brandon shakes his head, "Nope. He's been brain storming all night. This is my tenth cup of coffee. I'm a bit wired."

"Olivia! I think we've figured it out!" Walter calls out from across the lab.

I turn to face Brandon and he nods confirming, "Yup, we think we know how to get Peter out."

Walter continues to write, but calls out over his shoulder. "Your demonstration yesterday with the coin, I think now you are physically ready to try and get him out, but what we needed was a way to generate enough energy to reintegrate him into our space time."

My heart leaps in my chest at the thought that this is now a possibility, "Ok. How much energy are we talking about?"

"Kilotons, possibly megatons." Walter replies frankly.

"That's like..."

"A nuke." Brandon supplies not so helpfully.

"A nuke? Wonderful. How does this fit into a plan where we don't obliterate Boston?"

"Not a nuke exactly, a molecularly destabilised object of correct mass that's capable of crossing dimensions." Walter rattles off.

I have no idea what he's talking about, "Where do we get that from?"

Brandon smiles, "We've already got one. The dimensional field generators we developed for moving objects between universes. We would need to modify one of the generators to create a field around itself, then we only need to transport it back and forth a few times to destabilise it."

Flashes of what happened to the small mug come into my mind, "Ok, but how does this end up with Peter and I still alive at the end of it?"

Walter rushes over unable to contain his excitement, "Because the explosion would actually happen on the threshold of the void, the energy released from the shock wave and with your abilities guiding him, should enable Peter to return to his physical form. We can bring him back! Push him out like a cork in a bottle!"

"How long will you need to prepare the field generator?" I ask Brandon.

"Three days tops."

Oh my god, it's finally happening, "Get Nina on the phone."

* * *

><p>Nina looks over the equations on the whiteboard, "Are you sure this will work?"<p>

Walter nods furiously, "Yes. My calculations take into account the mass of the field generator and most other variables."

She turns to Walter, "Most variables?"

"Well, this has never been done before." Walter reasons, "I can't quantify Olivia's abilities into these formulas, she is an unknown variable in that sense."

Nina looks at me and I can see the deliberation in her eyes.

"Please Nina."

Seeing my conviction, she nods to Brandon, "Do it."

Brandon stands up so quickly he nearly tips his stool over. "We'll need to use the blast room."

I think my double take borders on the comical, "I thought you said the explosion wouldn't happen out here?"

"It might take a few tries before we find the sweet spot for the field generator."

"Ok." That calms me down slightly.

Unfortunately he keeps talking. "But there is always the chance it explodes by accident when you're standing next to it."

"Awesome." I reply sarcastically.

"Olivia, are you sure about this?" Nina questions me, giving me a chance to back out.

"Yes. I have never been surer about anything."

She smiles, "We wouldn't want to lose you just as you've decided to join us."

I squeeze me eyes shut, damn it, I haven't had time to talk to Astrid and Walter yet.

Walter spins to look at me, "Olivia, what is she talking about?"

Nina for her part tries to look apologetic, "I'm sorry, I didn't realise you hadn't told anyone."

This is not how I wanted Walter to find out, "Walter, I was going to tell you, this just happened last night."

"Are you leaving us?" He looks distraught at the thought.

"No, no Walter I'm not leaving. This is, well, there is going to be some restructuring to how we work, that's all. We'll still work together."

"Do I get to keep my own lab?" He asks narrowing his eyes, suspiciously.

"Yes, Walter."

"You'll also have unlimited use of this facility here as well." Nina explains.

"And Astrid stays with us?" He asks looking between Nina and I.

"Yes." I confirm again, knowing that any changes to Walter's routines have been known to upset him for days. Now would not be a good time for Walter to lose focus.

"Good, that's good." He replies satisfied.

I sigh, relieved that he understands. "I will explain everything Walter; it's going to be ok." Before I get a chance to say anything else, my phone vibrates on my hip; it seems everyone got an early start this morning.

* * *

><p>Knocking on the door to one of the small side rooms, I find Dr. Grant rifling through a stack of papers behind a desk, "You wanted to see me?"<p>

She looks up quickly and ushers me in, "Yes, come in and close the door." Her tone is tense.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to alarm you." She starts, trying to sound relaxed but failing miserably.

"Ok." I get the feeling this isn't going to be good news.

She turns to the monitors on the wall and brings up a series of brain scans.

"Are those mine?"

"Yes, on their own there doesn't seem to be anything unusual, it's not until you compare them with the scans we took when you first came to us." Grant pulls up a different set of scans on the adjacent monitor but at first I don't see the difference. "You can see it better if we overlap the images." The scans merge together onto one screen and its obvious now what has her so worried.

"The scans are different."

"Not just different. There is more Cortexiphan activity, it's spreading. Look here." She points to an area of small purple dots that weren't on the old scan at all, "These are completely new areas of involvement."

"C-127?" I ask, but I already know the answer. It's the effects of Walternate's experimental compound.

Grant nods, "It's the nature of the neurotransmitter. The more you use your abilities, the more it spreads and cements new neruo-pathways." She points to an area in the centre of the scan, "It's also making existing areas bigger, this area has grown by ten percent since the last scan."

"That's ten percent in six weeks?"

"Yeah. It could be that this spreading is just a reaction to the training you are doing, it may slow down or arrest completely once you reach a certain level..." She trails off.

"But?" I prompt.

"But it might not." She turns to look at me; the seriousness of her expression makes my stomach flip.

"What are we talking about here if it doesn't?"

"This is so beyond all our medical understanding Olivia, I don't know what could happen to you."

"Worst case?"

"Cerebral haemorrhage. Death."

Well I did ask.

Taking a step back to locate the nearest chair, I lower my head into my hands so that I can press my fingers into my temples.

I hear her move away from the monitors to sit on the edge of desk in front of me. Her voice is calm when she talks, "I'm worried that any big uses in power, specifically the release of adrenaline, will accelerate the spread even more. The more demanding use of your abilities, the bigger the increase."

I look up to meet her eyes, "Peters' rescue."

She's quiet when she talks; trying to convey the gravity of the situation, "I don't know what will happen to you when you pull him out. The strain of using so much power..."

I shake my head vehemently, "I'm still getting him out. This doesn't change anything."

"Olivia -"

"You said it yourself; you don't know what could happen." I know she is going to try to reason with me, talk me out of rescuing Peter, or at least postpone it. "Who knows about this?"

"I have to tell Nina." She fixes me with a stare that says I won't be able to talk her out of that.

"Ok, but I don't want anyone else to know." That takes her by surprise; I've always fully disclosed everything with Walter in the past. This is my choice; I won't have him burdened with guilt if something was to happen to me during the rescue. "Could this process be reversed?"

She picks up the results on the table looking them over. "I don't know, maybe." Deep in thought she knits her eyebrows together, "I'd need to do some research."

"Thank you."

The natural ability that Walternate has enhanced is probably the reason I was even able to detect the changes in the timeline in the first place. Ironically although it's the ability I need to rescue Peter, it seems now it may also end up killing me.

But if it means bringing Peter back, I'm willing to pay any price.

Any price at all.

* * *

><p>AN: Hee hee! As you can imagine, the next chapter is going to be a biggie...<p> 


	23. Causality

AN: *sheepish* Hiya... I am terribly sorry for leaving you all hanging for so long – hopefully this will have been worth the wait!

Happy New Year!

* * *

><p>I always thought that my ability to emotionally detach myself is a personality flaw. However in the situation I find myself in right now, it's proving to be somewhat of a benefit. All the crazy experiments that I've been involved in over the last few years have always been done in the privacy of Walter's lab, to a small select group of people that I've come to trust implicitly.<p>

There are at least twenty people here.

Not including the team on the other side.

They are also going to be recording this event, and I can understand why. It's not every day you purposely destroy a piece of technology worth millions of dollars to rescue a man from an interdimensional void. I only hope that it captures Peter's safe rescue, and not, as Grant suspects, an ex-FBI Agent turning herself into a vegetable.

I'm a picture of perfect calm in white scrubs, sitting on the edge of a gurney, surrounded by a sea of frenzied activity. People bustle past, more concerned about the data on the vast array of computer screens than me. I know that focus will change soon, so I savor the moment, this brief moment absent from their scrutiny.

In this illusion of solitude I have time to study the people around me. Walter has donned his lab coat, there are dark red stains on the sleeves, which look suspiciously like blood, but knowing Walter could also be the remains of one his more recent culinary experiments. He runs a hand through his hair again; stressing the ends until it's sticking out in all directions, adding to the mad professor look.

Grant is briefing the medical team.

Nina is leaning over the shoulder of a lab tech; her cool professional exterior is betrayed by the way she rubs the back of her cybernetic right hand. It's the only tell that I have been able to find in the guarded director of Massive Dynamic. I suppose Nina is the person most financially vested in this endeavor, already she stands to lose a field generator, but I'm not naive to confuse her concern over my safety of that of a friend, rather I am valuable asset. If something were to happen to me, I would be irreplaceable to Massive Dynamic.

A final sweep of the room, and I catch the concerned gaze of Astrid. She too, is seemingly managing to separate herself from the madness around us. She offers me a nervous smile, but it does nothing to disguise the worry in her eyes. I offer her a smile in return, one that I hope offers her some comfort.

"_Can you hear me?"_ Brandon's voice through the in-ear communicator shakes me from my thoughts.

"Yes, I hear you." I say out loud as I feel the attention of the room shifting back to me once again.

Walter stands in front of me to try and focus my attention. "Remember timing is everything. There is a field around the generator, but you will have to use your abilities to pull it through with you. That should be enough to destabilize it fully and release the energy needed to get Peter out." He speaks so quickly it makes him hard to follow; he always does that when he's nervous.

"I understand." We have been over these instructions at least five times today.

The open channel on the communicator comes to life again, the loudness making me wince, _"It's also_ _probably worth_ _mentioning that you shouldn't look at it directly. It's going to be bright, like, really bright when it goes off."_

"Got it."

Walter turns round to pick up a syringe from the medical tray, "You will need to inject this into your right arm when you are ready."

"What's in it?"

"Adrenaline." Grant replies, I hadn't even noticed her moving over. She catches my eye to give me a knowing look, "A high dose."

Walter continues oblivious to the silent communication going on. "It should boost your abilities enough to cross into the void."

"OK. What about once I am in the void?"

Walters face goes blank, before he shrugs, "I-I have no idea." He takes a few moments to think, "You said last time that you heard Peter talking to you?"

"Uh yeah, that night in the train yard." I confirm.

"He may be easy enough to find again. Follow his voice, hold onto it. That's the only advice I can give you."

That's probably the only advice anyone could give me. As far as I know I am the only person, second only to Peter, who has been into the Void, and the only person that's ever come out of it. Even the Observer mentioned that it wasn't someplace they had ventured. I swallow past the lump in my throat to ask Walter the next question that has been playing on my mind lately, "Walter, I haven't been hearing him anymore – not for the last month. What if he's gone?"

He shakes his head, "No, I don't think he has. Being isolated the way he has been, there is no telling what that has done to his mental state after all these months." I suppose Walter has a unique insight into what confinement and isolation can do to a person. "I believe you're presence in the void should be enough to coax him out."

Grant finishes tapping down the large bore IV's in both of my arms. "We've got two crash teams prepped and ready to go on this side." She hits me with a prolonged look, "We're prepared for any outcome."

That was one thing that had never occurred to me before this very moment that something might happen to Peter when I pull him out. The brief shroud of doubt I have at that thought doesn't last long. There's no way he can be left where he is. Even if he is no longer aware of what has happened to him, the distraught panic I heard in his voice when I heard him calling out to me reassures me that I am doing the right thing.

"_When you cross over, we'll go through the checks again. Once you enter the room with the generator you'll be on your own, but we'll still be able to see you and talk with you through the comms."_ Brandon explains through the open channel.

"We'll also be monitoring your vitals through the whole event." Nina calls over, "We're ready to start when you are."

I slide off the gurney and make my way to the elevator. It will be a journey I'll make on my own. Astrid is the first to break the standoff and pulls me into a tight hug. "Be careful."

"I will."

Nina smiles, "Good luck Olivia."

Walter hangs back until last, "Could we have a moment please?" He asks the others.

Waiting until we are alone, I see him struggle to put his thoughts into words. "I've never said this before, but-" he tries to control his emotions, but I feel this conversation might be the undoing of both of us. "You are family to me, Olivia."

I feel my eyes tearing up, I shake my head, and I want to tell him to stop, "Walter-"

He shakes his head silencing me, he is determined to tell me this, whether I want to hear it or not. "I miss my son. More than anything in this world. Having Peter back, in whatever way would bring me immense joy, but not at the expense of losing someone I consider a daughter."

Words escape me and all I can do is pull Walter into my arms.

I want to tell him that I see him like a Father.

I want to tell him about Grant's concerns over my health.

I want to tell him that this is my choice, how I won't be able to live with myself if I don't try to save Peter.

I want to tell him not to blame himself if something goes wrong.

"It's going to be alright." I say, the words hollow even to my own ears.

Walter pulls himself together, "Of course it is." He pats my arm.

We are both horrible liars and that isn't lost on either of us.

I step backwards through the open doors of the elevator; Walter is the last person I see as the doors close. Taking a steadying breath, I look down at the full syringe in my hand.

"Hold on Peter." I whisper to the empty elevator.

I'm met only with silence.

* * *

><p><em>The room in front of me phases out and fluctuates. <em>

_Something isn't right._

_The space around me starts to speed up and spin; increasing in velocity as I stand seemingly motionless. I don't have time to figure out what's going on before an abrupt bone jarring yank pulls me backwards into the maelstrom._

_The world disappears from under me and I'm falling, falling into a vast blackness._

_Disorientated, I feel as if I'm tumbling through turbulent waters and I'm not sure where the surface is. An inexorable pressure squeezes around my head and I stop breathing, lights flicker behind my eyes. _

_A deep rumbling builds in my ears and I try to scream out but no sound escapes my burning lungs._

_I realise I am nothing but my thoughts. My mind pulled and stretched out to infinity. I struggle to hold onto myself, to my very being, my soul._

_In this moment, I learn that anticipation is a thing of terror. Every moment I wonder when I'm going to hit the ground, but it's endless. _

_Still falling, I'm consumed by darkness, torn apart until I am nothing._

A tremendous burning starts in the palm of my left hand, it grows so hot I fear it's going to catch fire. The sensation spreads up my arm, clawing tendrils of white hot pain make their way towards my head. The tendrils push into the back of my skull and a blinding flash of white explodes behind my closed eyes.

I have no memory of the impact, only that I know I've stopped moving.

I'm lying on my side, gasping.

A high pitched squeal in my right ear pulls me fully into consciousness. Even with my eyes closed I can feel the world tipping on its axis, disorienting me so that the only lifeline I have is to press my cheek harder onto the cold surface below me.

I feel sick.

A strong smell of ozone fills my nose, making my throat burn.

The screeching fades away.

I reach up to press my fingers against my ear, locating the source of the squealing; it's the in-ear communicator. Slightly more alarming, I also discover that the reason the noise has stopped is because my ear has gone deaf.

Hopefully it's only temporary.

The world slows down into an undulating wobble and I risk opening my eyes. I can't see anything but an all encompassing bright white fog. Blinking slowly to clear my tear filled vision; I still can't comprehend what I'm looking at.

Thousands of small yellow orbs are suspended in the fog. Floating like galaxies of tiny suns.

Rolling onto my stomach, I push up onto my hands and knees. Waiting for a few seconds to find my equilibrium; breathing deep through the spinning.

I have to get up.

Unsteadily, after several failed attempts, I manage to get onto my feet; I turn in a slow circle, stumbling, viewing the three hundred and sixty degree curtain of fog that surrounds me.

Something has gone wrong. I don't know where I am, but it's definitely not the void. I don't remember passing through, or trying to find Peter.

My eyes catch something in the distance. Thankfully it seems I'm not alone here.

Dark figures appear in the fog, slowly running towards me. As they get closer I see that they are sprinting, but time seems to have slowed down, everything passes me by in slow motion.

The figures and the fog give this place a surreal quality. Not for the first time in the last few months I wonder if this is a dream or a hallucination.

"Hey what's going on?" I call out to them, although I'm not sure if any sound passes my lips. In the background a constant whooshing blocks out all other sounds. I can't even hear my own breathing.

The figures, who I can now make out as Grant and the medical team, don't acknowledge me. A sense of urgency is mirrored across their faces, but they don't slow down as they approach.

Realizing they are going to knock me over, I try to move out of their way, but I can't move quickly enough before they are barreling into me.

Wincing in anticipation, I wait for the blow to happen, but nothing hits me.

Opening my eyes to find out if they have stopped at the last moment, I experience the abject horror of one of the medics running straight through me.

My hand shoots up to claw at my chest as I spin to watch their retreating backs.

Something has gone very wrong.

With my heart hammering in my chest I walk on staggering legs to where the medics have come to a stop.

Two of them, including Grant are kneeling on the ground beside a body. Moving around so I can see over their shoulders, I lean forward to see who they are working on. A shock of fright runs up my spine as I stare into my own blank unseeing eyes.

"No..."

My lips are pale, with a blue tinge. Grants fingers probe at my neck searching for a pulse as another medic shines a light into my eyes. He shakes his head at my unresponsive pupils. Grant's mouth moves, but I can't hear the words. The medic with the flash light nods in understanding and begins pushing down on my chest.

Shocked, I stumble back, unable to watch as they try to resuscitate my body. Turning away I come face to face with Walter.

He stares right through me, watching the macabre tableau unfolding. He looks lost, desolate. I reach out a comforting hand towards him, but it passes straight through him. His mouth is moving in a silent mantra and I try desperately to work out what he's saying. The floor underneath my feet gives off a tremor and I feel as if an invisible force is pulling me backwards. I try to resist it, wanting to decipher what Walter is saying. He is openly sobbing now, making it even harder to lip read.

The rushing sound builds into a crescendo and I'm wrenched from my feet, once again thrown into the darkness.

* * *

><p>A steady beeping intrudes into my thoughts. If I had the energy I would lean over to turn the alarm off. Maybe I could call in sick today, surely Broyles would understand.<p>

It feels like it has been months since I slept for a full night. I try and move my right arm to shut off the alarm but it's pinned beneath something, or someone.

I'm not alone in my bed.

The spike in adrenaline pushes the drowsiness back, and my awareness returns abruptly. The bed is too hard. The sheets don't smell right. They have a clinical odor, reminding me of a hospital.

My eyes open slowly; the room is in semi darkness. The beeping I realize is a heart rate monitor on the left side of the bed. My left arm aches in a dull throb, masked behind a layer of heavy duty painkillers. I shift my attention to the person slumped by my side, head turned away from me resting beside my hip.

Peter?

I desperately want to touch the head of dark hair. In the dim light it looks so much like him it makes my heart ache.

I must have moved, because he stirs in his sleep, "Olivia?"

I know the voice, and I smile softly as he wakes up and turns to me, "Hey Walter."

"Oh thank god you're alright." He sighs, relieved.

"What happened?" I gesture weakly to my left hand, which is heavily bandaged up to my elbow. A tugging sensation follows all the way up the back of my neck and again I'm thankful for the painkillers.

Walter closes eyes shut, not answering.

"Walter?" I press, contemplating pressing the call button to get some answers. "Walter, what happened?"

"I thought you were gone." He replies, but it's just a whisper. "You disappeared."

I disappeared? "You're not making any sense..."

"You don't remember?" He sits up straighter, adjusting his wrinkled shirt and I wonder how long he has been sitting by my bedside.

"No, Walter, the last thing I remember I was just saying goodbye to you, before I crossed over." My eyes squeeze shut at the memory of the darkness seeping into my soul, my mind being torn apart and shredded. The alarm on the ECG machine goes off as my heart rate speeds up. "Please tell me."

He reaches over calmly to turn the alarm off. He pats my hand in reassurance as I struggle to get in control of my body. "Everything was going as planned. You went over there, into the room, but," He takes steadying breath, "But, there was a problem with the generator. It didn't destabilize like we expected it would. You're abilities, were too subtle."

"I don't..." shaking my head, it still doesn't make sense. "I don't even remember crossing over. I don't understand."

"There was only one way to set it off, I told you to..." He looks over at my arm, guilt and pain etched into his brow. "That's what happened to you hand."

I look at my hand like a foreign object as I try hard to remember, in a flash I see myself reaching out tentatively. "I touched the generator."

"Yes. I'm sorry Olivia." He says staring at the floor avoiding my eye contact.

Devastated I reach out to him, holding his hand tight, "You've got nothing to be sorry for." Realization strikes me that was what Walter was saying in the blast room over my body. "It wasn't your fault." His eyes snap up to mine. "It was mine." My voice is hoarse as I push past the lump in my throat.

"Why didn't you tell me about the results?" He asks.

He's spoken to Grant and I know from the accusation in his eyes that he now knows everything. "I didn't want you to worry, I'm sorry I should have told you." A tear slips down my face, I should have trusted him, and I failed him.

Failed Peter.

"I failed everyone."

Walter looks at me sharply, "You didn't fail."

"What?"

"You didn't fail Olivia." At my confused look Walter continues. "Didn't I tell you?"

"No Walter, you didn't tell me." My pulse pounds in my ears, I try and push myself up onto my good elbow.

"Oh, I thought I..."

"Walter!?" I snap, pulling on the sleeve of his shirt.

His eyes are wide as he regards me. "He's back. Peter's back."

And it's like someone just sucked all the air out of the room.

* * *

><p>No promises when I will get the next chapter up (there has been a few re-writes), but I did make a new year's resolution to get the story finished!<p>

Twitter: IDtwentyone for occasional ramblings.


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